Before It All
by DuchessRaven
Summary: PreDawn. In his early years at Hellsing, Walter's first love was his partner Alucard, but can their friendship and budding romance survive when he finds out who and what this ravenhaired Lolita really is? Young Walter x Girlycard. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you've read Dawn, you know this pairing. 14-year-old Walter and Alucard in his feminine form, aka Girlycard. This is written from Walter's pov mostly, so since he assumes Alucard to be a girl, Alucard will be referred to as "she", regardless of whether he's actually in a female form or not, which actually doesn't matter in the context of the story. This is my first attempt at anything other than AxI and I really like this couple. Hope you do, too.

Enjoy and Review!

Chapter 1

Walter C. Dolnez double-checked the piece of paper in his hand, gripping the duffle bag holding his worldly possessions in the other. Even for a twelve-year-old, he didn't own much, just two changes of pants and three shirts, plus a few personal hygiene items. Rain clouds were gathering in the sky as he looked up at the enormous mansion before him, looming like a sleeping beast. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Hellsing manor. This must be it. The boy rubbed his nose with his sleeve. A strand of loose black hair fell before his eyes. He shook it out of the way and hoped the cigarette in his mouth wouldn't get damp. Most would probably consider him too young to smoke, but when one has had a life such as his, one took pleasure wherever it was to be found.

"Hey kid!" yelled the driver who dropped him off. Walter ignored him. The estate was vast, bigger than anything he had ever seen in his short life. Try as he did, he could not imagine what his purpose here was.

"You! Kid!" the driver yelled again, rolling down the passenger window. "Where's my money?"

Walter shrugged and half-turned unhurriedly. He smirked at the driver, holding on to the cigarette with his white, even teeth. "Do I look like I have money?"

That the driver could not argue with. The boy was dressed like a pauper, which he might as well have been. Every piece of clothing on him, from head to toe, was faded and full of holes. His wrinkled pants were two sizes too big and held up by a frayed belt. His shirt was missing two buttons and there was a hole in his shoe.

"Look," the driver said, "I was told I'd get paid for picking you up and bringing you here. If you're not gonna pay me, someone better."

Walter turned back to the mansion and, slinging the duffle bag over his shoulder, tucked the piece of paper into his pocket. "Not my problem, pal," he said. "I didn't call you. I could've walked here."

"Hey!" the driver called after him, getting out of the car as he approached the gates. "I better get paid! I…"

Continuing to ignore him, Walter walked to the large gates. He pushed them, found them locked, and looked around for an intercom, or perhaps a doorbell. There was none. He scratched his head in confusion. The driver was coming up behind him.

"Look you," he was saying, "I'm not leaving until I get paid."

Walter puffed on his cigarette and continued his search for a doorbell. "Hope you brought an umbrella," he said, pointing at the sky.

The driver opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped. Following the man's gaze, Walter saw the soldier. How long had he been there? He tensed up a bit as the uniformed man approached him. On his left arm was a patch, bearing an odd insignia and the word "Hellsing" in dark letters.

The place has its own private army? Walter took the cigarette out of his mouth and stood unfazed as the soldier stopped in front of him.

"Walter Dolnez?" the soldier asked. He was wearing a tan-colored uniform and had at least two pieces of visible firearms. No mere security guard this one was.

"That's me."

To his surprise, the soldier looked him up and down and chuckled. "All right," he said. "If you say so. Go on it. The boss is waiting for you."

As if on cue, the heavy gates swung open. Shrugging, Walter walked inside. Behind him, he heard the driver yelling more about money and the ruffling sound of paper. Seems the soldier paid for his ride. He wondered whether that was strange, but hurried his steps as droplets of rain began to fall.

It took several minutes to reach the mansion's front steps, and by then the rain was really beginning to come down. His shoulders and hair were soaked, clinging uncomfortably to his skin. But at least his cigarette didn't go out. Walter took a long drag and pulled out the piece of paper in his pocket again.

Hellsing mansion. Top floor. Second door.

Simple, to the point, though suspicious. But Walter wasn't one to fear the unknown. At twelve years old he already possessed wisdom and courage beyond his years, though some would argue that he was a bit brash.

No one knew the circumstances of his birth, not even himself, having lived at the run-down orphanage as long as he remembered. It was a desolate place filled with mad-eyed children who lived knowing nothing but desperation and empty stomachs. He was one of them, yet not one of their gang. Slim and agile, with dark eyes and hair, he had the face of a nobleman's son and stood out like a sore thumb. The other children cast him aside because he was handsome and articulate, and the adults eyed him with distrust because he was intelligent and watchful.

He was the same and yet different. His name was Walter C. Dolnez, though no one knew anything of a Dolnez family. He wasn't even sure that's his name. Very early on in life he was labeled a troublemaker at the orphanage because of certain things he could do, _would_ do. The more it happened, the more they cast him aside, until he was finally old enough to learn to refrain from using his "talents" in fear of lashes. Sometimes, when a kind word was tossed his way, they would tell him that someone would adopt him soon, that he would go to a good home, because he was so beautiful, and so charming.

But the truth was, very few kids ever left that orphanage through adoption. It was a place for cast-away kids, diseased kids, kids no one wants. And he was a cast-away among cast-aways.

Then the letter came. It had arrived two days ago, exactly one week before his thirteenth birthday. He wasn't sure whether it was luck or some elaborate plan. After all, when you turn thirteen, the orphanage no longer keeps you if you don't work. And then, it's off to the nearest factory or sweat shop, where you grow up and become and adult in a day's time, in the cold, cruel world.

But the letter came; a benefactor had requested his presence, to offer him a new life in exchange for services. He had never heard of the name Hellsing, but whatever this person had to offer, it couldn't be worse than forced manual labor in a factory or living in the streets. So he packed his bags, and a car came for him. The driver had given him that note. He stole the man's cigarettes while he wasn't looking.

Walter twisted the brass handle on the front door, half expecting it to be locked, and found it opening easily. He peeked inside.

The place was everything he could imagine and more. It was every bit as vast as it appeared from the outside, immaculately kept, and held an air of chilling power. However, unlike he imagined, there were no frivolous decorations anywhere in sight, nor primly dressed maids. In fact, the whole place was like a military bunker, tight and clean, and efficiently arranged. He stepped into the main hall and closed the door behind him.

The only other thing on the piece of paper was a name. Arthur Hellsing. Walter had no doubt that this was his "benefactor". But it still did not help answer of question of why he was here. Perhaps he was to be a companion to the man's child? Work as a servant? If the place had an army, maybe he was to clean barracks. Numerous scenarios played in his mind as he ascended the winding stairs of the mansion.

Each floor was as neatly kept as the next. As he walked Walter felt as if he was been watched, and he did spot a few security cameras. The place was sealed tight as a fortress, authority seeping from every seam. Walter shuddered a little.

On the top floor, he found a long hall, with doors on one side and windows on the other. He counted to the second, which was the only one standing ajar. He didn't have but to guess that the rest were locked.

He knocked.

There was no answer. The duffle bag was getting heavy so he dropped it where he stood. Nothing in it was worth stealing anyway. Carefully, he pushed the door open and found without much surprise that it was an office.

Like the rest of the house, the office was wide, sparsely furnished, and very clean. To his left was a wall lined with bookshelves and to his right a grandfather clock. Directly before him was a large mahogany desk. Walter stepped onto the tiled floor and looked around. Something told him a lot of orders were issued from this office.

"You can't smoke in here."

It took him a moment to notice the girl sitting behind the desk, her feet propped up nonchalantly on the desk. Their eyes met. She raised an eyebrow.

"Uh…" Walter stammered, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "Hi."

The girl smiled, or rather smirked. "Hi," she replied.

"I'm looking for Arthur Hellsing," he told her, taking a step towards the desk. Something about the girl made him uneasy. As he watched, she twirled a finger in her long hair.

"O.K.," she said, and kept smirking at him.

"Can you tell me where he is?"

Pulling her feet off the desktop, the girl leaned forward, allowing him a better look. She was young, perhaps his age or no more than a year older. Her hair was jet black, bangs neatly trimmed, and hung like a waterfall off her shoulders. Strangely, she was wearing a white suit and tie, with matching white gloves.

"I'm Arthur Hellsing," she said, crossing her arms, as if waiting for him to challenge her.

Stunned, Walter looked around, waiting for some sign that this was a joke. But there was none. He turned back to the girl again. "Are you serious?" he asked doubtfully.

The girl scoffed. "Prove I'm not."

"You're a girl."

"And?"

"And Arthur is a man's name."

The girls threw back her head and laughed. It was a wild laugh that made his nerves itch. "Form means very little, you know," she said. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge on appearance."

Walter fidgeted uncomfortably. She was right: there was no way he could prove she was lying, not having met Arthur Hellsing himself. He swallowed and decided to play along.

"I'm Walter Dolnez," he said. "I was sent from the orphanage."

The girl blinked. "We don't need orphans."

Walter's jaw nearly dropped. "Excuse me?"

"I wasn't aware that we had a shortage of orphans." The girl tapped her slender fingers together. "What would we do with an orphan?"

"Uh…" Thinking quickly, Walter removed the note from his pocket. "I was given this note," he explained. "On the ride over here. The driver gave it to me. I was supposed to come here and work for Arthur Hellsing. He offered to be a benefactor to me."

"Uh-huh…" nodding, the girl glanced at the note and made no move to take it. There was something strange about her face though Walter couldn't quite place it. Even though he hasn't been around many girls his age, he could tell she was quite pretty. Her features were fair, her skin smooth, and her lips soft. But her mannerisms were somewhat out of place. As he studied her, she also studied him.

"Look at you," she said, gesturing at his tattered clothing. "You look like something the dogs dragged in. Did you even wash your face before you came here?"

He didn't, and told her so.

The strange girl clicked her tongue cutely. "We can't have a dirty boy from the streets running around here." She jerked a thumb towards her right. "There's a washroom next door. Why don't you go get that mud off your face before we talk any more? And throw away that disgusting thing."

The cigarette was still in his hand, although now out. At a loss for words, Walter did as he was told. Before leaving the room, however, he gave the girl one last hard look. "Are you really Arthur Hellsing?" he asked.

She tilted her head. "Are you going to wash your face?"

And so he did. The washroom was clean and the water pure. Walter splashed it onto his face gratefully, having become used to sharing a dirty basin with five other children. He threw the cigarette into the waste basket, used the soap next to the sink to clean his face, then ran his hand through his hair several times in front of the mirror before heading back.

The moment he stepped out of the washroom a man's voice drifted down the hall, coming from the office. His ears perked up as the bits of conversation.

"…your eyes?"

"I didn't want to scare him off right away," he heard the girl say, then a man's chuckle.

When he entered the office a second time, it was easy to see the man now sitting behind the mahogany desk. He was tall and stately, with broad shoulders and a wide smile. His hair was tousled and his eyes sharp. There was something about the way he carried himself that showed both slyness and intellect at the same time. The girl was still there, sitting on the desk with her legs crossed and her hands neatly folded around her knee.

"Come in, my boy," the man said, gesturing for him to come closer. The girl only smirked.

Remembering his manners, Walter gave a shallow bow. "Good evening, sir," he said. "I am Walter Dolnez."

"He knows," the girl chided in, followed by a giggle. She turned to the man. "I sent him to wash his face. After all, the new ward of Hellsing can't have a dirty face. People will think we live in a barnyard."

The man looked Walter up and down. "He'll clean up just fine," he said after a moment. "He's got a nobleman's features." His blue eyes met Walter's. "I am Arthur Hellsing. Regardless of what this one here told you. I take it you met?"

The girl looked away innocently and played with her hair. Walter nodded.

"Yes, I have met your daughter, sir," he said.

Arthur laughed. "Daughter!" he exclaimed. "That's rich! If I ever have a daughter I'd probably ruin her like no other. No, Walter." He pushed the girl off the desk. She scowled. "This is a servant of the house, just like you will be." He gave the girl a reprimanding glare. "Now stop causing trouble and introduce yourself."

Shrugging, the girl approached Walter and gazed up at him with big black eyes. She was at least two inches shorter than him, petite and slim. "I'm Alucard," she said.

Walter couldn't think of anything to say. Being this close to a girl made him nervous. "That's an interesting name," he said finally.

"Alucard will be showing you the ropes around here," Arthur said. "I'm assuming the people at the orphanage didn't tell you anything useful."

"No, sir."

"That's fine." Arthur ran a hand through his thick hair. "There's a lot to learn around here, but you'll pick it up quickly. You look like a smart lad. Alucard." The girl turned around. "Take Mr. Dolnez to his room and get him settled in. You know what to do." She opened her mouth. "And _don't_ give me any lip. I'm already letting you off the hook for coming into my office unannounced."

Alucard rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said with a pout. "Yes master, right away master," she muttered under her breath as she exited the office and picked up Walter's duffel bag.

"I heard that!" Arthur called after her. Sighing, he turned back to Walter again. "Be on your toes around that one," he warned. "I apologize that I can't help you get settled myself. I'm a very busy man, you see. Do you have any questions?"

Walter hesitated. "I don't suppose I should ask why you wanted to bring me here?"

Arthur grinned sneakily. "That is a good question," he said. "But one I can't answer right now and trust me, it's better that way. You'll learn in due time. All you need to know for now is that you have a job here."

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's a little background on Dawn. If you rather read yourself, the 6 chapters published so far can be found at manganimation dot net un-translated. The first three chapters are translated by ATU-BOTI. Message me if you want direct link. I'd be happy to provide them.

But basically, Walter is 14 in Dawn. He and Alucard, who looks exactly how I describe in this story, are sent to Germany to crush the Last Battalion's vampire production lab. We meet Arthur Hellsing, looking quite young. Surprisingly unlike Integra, he is very rough around the edges, drinks nonstop, a slob (his library is as messy as I describe here), a smart aleck, and hires hookers when Walter's not around. Of course, he is capable and intelligent like Integra. We also meet Major, Doc, the Captain, and Rip, but they're not important to this story, which is pre-Dawn.

Enjoy the story and review please! This is my first story that doesn't have AxI, but you can see that I still can't stay away from Alucard.

Chapter 2

For such a small person, Alucard walked very fast. Walter could barely keep up as the girl descended the mansion's stairs, his bag slung over her shoulder. At first his mind was bursting with questions, but it didn't seem like she would be any useful in answering them so he didn't ask. Not once did she glance back at him as they reached the first floor. She led him to a secluded wing of the mansion and to a small bedroom.

"This is where you're going to sleep," she told him, tossing his bag down on the bed.

It was simply furnished, with only a twin bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a lamp. But like the rest of the house, it was clean and the sheets were fresh. There was also an adjoining washroom all to himself. Compared to the orphanage, this was heaven. Suddenly feeling quite joyful, Walter almost didn't notice Alucard strewing his belongings about the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked as a pair of old pants hit him in the face. He shook it off only to be hit with a shirt. Huffily, he snatched the bag out of Alucard's reach.

"What's it look like?" she said. "I'm going through your stuff."

At least she's honest. He gave her that much. Grumbling, Walter began to pick up his clothing, thinking awful thoughts about the girl as she watched.

"All your clothes are ugly," she told him matter-of-factly.

"Thank you," he said sarcastically, stuffing his things back into the bag. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

Alucard shook her head, long black locks swaying as she did. "I'm supposed to help you settle in. Master told me so."

Walter took a pause from his task. "Master?" he asked. "Should I call him that, too?"

"If you want." Alucard shrugged. "Or Sir Hellsing is fine. Or just Arthur. He doesn't really care."

"Why do you call him master?"

"Habit, I guess." She went to the dresser and rummaged through it, muttering to herself. "I thought they brought it here… ah-ha!" She pulled out a stack of neatly folded clothing and tossed it in front of him. "Put this one while I burn your old stuff."

Walter glanced at it. "Excuse me?"

"That's your uniform, put it on."

"Yea, that's fine. You're not really going to burn my things?"

Alucard gave him a squinted smile. "I might. They might have fleas on them."

"You talk about me like I'm some stray dog."

She sat down on the bed. "Maybe you are," she said with playful eyes. "Now put on your uniform."

Walter picked up the stack of clothes. He couldn't remember the last time he held new clothing in his hands. Alucard was watching him closely. "Are you going to leave?" he asked her.

"Why?"

"So I can change."

"I'm not in the way."

Blanching, Walter stared at her, looking for some sign that she was joking. Alucard just stared back. Finally, he blurted out, "you're a girl."

"And?"

This again… it was getting old. "Just get out so I can change," he told her.

She batted her long lashes. "I could turn around," she offered. "And besides, I'm pretty sure you haven't anything I've never seen before."

He ended up changing in the washroom. The uniform consisted of a pressed white shirt, dark grey vest and slacks, a black tie, and polished shoes. All of it fit him like a glove, as if it's been tailored to his measurements. After it was all done, he stood straight and looked himself in the mirror. If he said so himself, he looked pretty damn good.

Alucard was standing by the window when he emerged, watching the downpour outside. Lightning split the sky into pieces, accompanied by rumbling thunder. She didn't look at him as he approached.

"Look how beautiful it is, Walter," she said dreamily, sliding her fingers against the glass. "I've always loved the rain."

He looked outside. She was right. In his old life, rain meant damp sheets and head colds, but this was the first time he truly admired it, appreciated its power and mystery. Thunder crashed overhead.

"You're so lucky to have a window," she said, sighing. "My room is closed in. Although most of the time I don't mind. Except when it rains."

"Where do you sleep?"

"In the basement. I like the darkness." She tossed him a half-glance. "You look good. There is a prince under the pauper suit after all."

Heat rose to his cheeks. To be complimented this way by a girl was completely new to him. Averting her gaze, he turned to put away his bag and old clothing. "So what now?" he asked her. "What do I do here?"

Alucard giggled. She leaned against the window, facing him. "You, my dear Walter, are the new butler."

oOo

The bed was extremely comfortable. Walter fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, a warm blanket wrapped around his naked torso. There was a full set of clean pajamas for him in the dresser, but after a moment of indecision, he put on only the pants, wanting to experience the soft sheets to their fullest.

The rain fell outside, drumming against the window like a rhythmic melody. He slept to them, dreamed to them, and thanked God for bringing him a change of luck for once. As morning approached, he rose hazily out of his restful sleep, stretched, and rubbed his eyes.

Two big black eyes stared down at him.

With a cry of alarm he bolted up, scooted back, and bumped the back of his head on the headboard hard enough to see stars. When they cleared, those eyes were still there, sitting squarely below raven-black bangs.

"Good morning," Alucard said, smiling widely. Walter groaned and rubbed his head.

"Morning," he muttered. Suddenly conscious that he wasn't wearing a shirt, he quickly pulled the blanket over his chest.

Kneeling on his bed, Alucard let out a small giggle. "Don't be so shy," she said. "I just came to see if you were awake."

Walter studied the girl. She was still wearing that same white suit and gloves. Perhaps it was her uniform, he decided. "How did you get in here?" he asked. "The door was locked."

"Lock's broken." She moved a little closer to him. Uneasily, he shrunk back. "Come on, get up. We have lots to do."

"What time is it?"

"Six."

"A.M.!"

Alucard giggled again. "You can't be lazy here," she said, hopping off the bed. "If you wanna work here, you gotta get up early." She rocked on her heels, hands linked behind her back. "If you want, I'll come in here and wake you up everyday."

He shook his head quickly, not removing the blanket. "That's alright. I'll manage." He looked around. "Um, can you please leave so I can get dressed?"

"O.K.," she replied crisply and bounded out of the room, taking him by surprise. Wasting no time, Walter got out of bed and put on his uniform, but not before taking a look at the door.

The lock wasn't broken. In fact, it looked brand new. He tried it, locking and unlocking. It worked perfectly fine. Still, he didn't give it much thought. Based on the short time he's known the girl, it wouldn't surprise him in the least if Alucard had a key and liked to mess with his head.

Just as he finished putting on his pants, the girl barged in again, apparently unfamiliar with the concept of "knocking". In her hands she carried a plate with what looked like bread and eggs and a glass of juice. Setting the food in front of him, she grinned again.

"Eat up," she told him. "Then I'll show you where to work."

Starving, Walter wolfed down the food. It was a bit bland but plentiful and filling. As he ate, Alucard never took her eyes off him.

"How are you so energetic this early?" he asked her, yawning. Might as well talk to her, as she obviously wasn't going away.

"I'm a morning person," she told him, tapped her chin with one finger. "No, that's not quite right. I'm a night person, and on mornings that's dark like night, I'm energetic like it's night."

It didn't make sense, but Walter wasn't in the mood for explanations. He finished his food and washed the plate in the sink of the washroom.

"So what do I do?" he asked Alucard. "Is Sir Hellsing up? If I'm the butler, should I go bring breakfast to him? I must warn you: I can't cook."

Alucard shook her head. "Nah. He's gone. He left last night. Some incident downtown. He'll be back later today. The cooking thing can wait. Right now there's stuff upstairs for you to do. Come on."

Seeing no other choice, he followed her and ascended the mansion's stairs once more, this time to the second floor. "So what is it that Sir Hellsing does?" he asked as they walked.

Alucard shrugged. "It's kind of complicated. There's no point going into it now. It's one of those things you'll pick up eventually. All you need to do right now is your butler duties. The first of which is to clean the library."

"I can do that."

A sneer materialized on the girl's face as they stopped before a large door. "You'd think so," she said, and opened it. Walter's jaw nearly hit the floor.

The library, if it could be called that, looked like a train wreck hit by a tornado. Every surface of the room was covered with piles of books, papers, dirty cups, writing utensils, and stains. The floor was barely visible from the debris and somewhere there were lumps hidden under the papers that he assumed were pieces of furniture. The shelves were half-empty and books were laid about in disorganized stacks. There were at least three half-empty liquor bottles in sight, several glasses, and, for some reason, a tennis shoe.

"I know what you're thinking," Alucard said, stepping into the library past the stunned boy. "Master's messy. That's why we needed a butler." She gave him a gentle push. "Hop to it."

"All of this?" he asked, still unable to take his eyes off the unbelievable mess. "Aren't you going to help me?"

The girl scoffed. "You can't expect _me_ to perform such menial tasks. That's what we have you for." She raised a gloved hand and waved. "Bye-bye."

Before he could protest, she was already gone, as suddenly as she had appeared earlier. Sighing, Walter rolled up his sleeves and got to work. If his time at the orphanage had taught him anything, it was how to clean.

First he found a corner and used it to stash all things that "did not belong", which included the tennis shoe. Then he cleaned the cups and saucers in the nearest washroom, followed by putting away the writing utensils, loose sheets of paper, and alphabetizing the books on the shelf. He dusted, swept, and wiped off every visible surface, and took swigs from all the liquor bottles. Two of them tasted awful. The third one wasn't half bad, so he took another swig.

It wasn't until the clock he uncovered on an end table chimed noon that he stopped to take a breath and survey his work. Not bad. The floor was almost entirely visible and a third of the books were clean and organized.

Perhaps this butler gig won't be so bad. At least there was a roof over his head and clean clothing to boot.

Walter raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow just as Arthur Hellsing entered. He quickly straightened and bowed. Arthur took a quick look around and nodded approvingly. Walter took the chance to look at the man closely. He was about thirty-five, dressed neatly but had an attitude that was somewhat too casual. There was an air of mischievousness about him.

"Not bad," Arthur said. "Not bad at all."

Walter smiled. "I will finish it in the afternoon, sir," he said.

Arthur shook his head. "No, no," he said. "You will finish tomorrow morning. There are other things for you to do in the afternoon. Your tutor has arrived."

Walter blinked. "Tutor, sir?"

"Of course. To be a butler of Hellsing you must do more than the usual tasks. You will be well-educated, well-read, and well-informed in the matters of this family's business. You will learn languages, sciences, literature, and how to act like a true gentleman. You see, Walter, the Hellsing house is like no other. As the butler, you are not just another cleaning person. You will learn how to run this entire estate."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

NOTE: Lower hits on this story than I expected, since it's not too different in format than the other ones. But oh well. True, it's somewhat of a taboo subject (but man those Dawn "boys" are cute). Still, it's more taboo than Way to an Heir? That's hard to imagine. Oh well. Enjoy the story!

Chapter 3

And learn he did.

After a quick lunch Walter found himself before a portly, stern-looking man with large eyes and a wide mouth, who promptly handed him a stack of texts almost as high as he was. Then he was led into a small room with two chairs, a desk, and a blackboard. The tutor, without waiting for him to settle down, went to the blackboard and began to lecture at a speed he was barely able comprehend.

First an hour of European history, then an hour of entry biology and chemistry, an hour and a half of German, then forty-five minutes of business mathematics. By the time evening arrived Walter felt his head spinning, reeling like a whirlpool. Just when he was certain he couldn't take anymore, the tutor motioned for him to close his books.

"That's all," he said, and walked out the room without a second glance back. "See you tomorrow."

Walter slumped into the chair. This was more excruciating than cleaning the whole manor by himself. Slowly, he stood, stretched, and gathered up the books. Arthur had told him to keep the texts in his room and study in his spare time. Been a butler was harder than he thought.

Still, the prospect of running the entire estate excited him, as was having a proper education. He still had no idea why the man was doing this for him, but there must be a good reason. Perhaps he needed to mold someone young and capable to help him run the place, and an orphan was ideal because he would have no attachments other than to the estate.

This made sense for the moment. Walter headed to his room, nearly dropping his books as a small figure stepped into his way from out of nowhere.

"How was your lesson with the frog?" Alucard chirped, helping him steady himself.

Walter rolled his eyes. Come to think of it, he was surprised that the girl stayed away from him as long as she did, the whole day. He stepped past her, struggling to balance his books. Alucard followed.

"The frog?"

The girl giggled. "He looks like a frog, so I call him the frog."

"Did he tutor you, too?"

Alucard paused briefly. "No," she said simply as they approached his room. She held the door open for him, snatched a book off the top of the stack, and sat down on the bed as he put the rest away. "You have to read all of this?"

"Arthur said I have to be a properly butler." Walter drew the drapes. "So why don't you leave me alone so I can study?"

The girl ignored him. She turned over the book in her hand. "I didn't think Arthur would have you reading this one so soon," she muttered, half to herself.

Leaning over, Walter saw the book was titled Dracula, by Bram Stoker. "Why not?"

"It's a little… advanced, I think." Alucard tossed the book aside.

"If you're implying I'm stupid," Walter said pointedly, sitting down on the bed as far as possible from her, "then you're wrong. I'm fully capable of reading books like that. In fact, I've heard of it before, and I know the story, too."

The girl chuckled. "Sure you do," she said, twirling a strand of hair. "Want a smoke?"

He looked at her. She was holding out a package of cigarettes towards him, as if offering bait to a fish. "I thought we're not supposed to smoke in here."

"Just not in Arthur's office," Alucard replied, leaning a little closer. "He doesn't like cigarettes. Only cigars. Come on, it's the good stuff. Not the cheap Yankee sticks. We can go outside. The night is young."

Walter looked at the pack of cigarettes. Good smokes were very hard to come by at the orphanage, and usually he had to trade chores and favors for them, and rarely were they as good as the ones been offered now. He didn't feel any particular desire to spend more time in Alucard's company, but the cigarettes were much too tempting.

"Alright," he said at last. "Let's go."

They took a walk in the garden, which held significantly less flowers than he thought. It was mostly composed of hedges and trimmed fields. The estate consisted of vast lands and he saw more soldiers bearing the Hellsing insignia.

"Why are there soldiers here?" he asked Alucard as the girl lit his cigarette with a silver lighter.

"They serve Hellsing," she replied simply, taking a drag of her own cigarette.

"What does Hellsing do?"

She shook her head. "You're asking that question again. I told you, you'll learn in time."

He considered this. "Alright," he said, "what is do _you_ do?"

"I do lots of things."

"Here, I mean. For Arthur Hellsing. Are you related to him? Or are you an orphan, too?"

For a long time Alucard didn't answer and Walter thought he had said something wrong. He opened his mouth to apologize and saw the girl standing still, head tilted upward at the darkened sky.

"Look at the moon, Walter," she said. "It's full. Isn't it the most beautiful things you've ever seen?"

He looked up. The moon was pale and pure, gleaming silvery light. "Yea," he said, "I suppose."

"I love the full moon," said Alucard, skipping ahead and spinning in a slow circle. "I love its light and the way it brightens up the night."

Walter smoked his cigarette. "You haven't answered my question."

Alucard turned around and faced him, her features half hidden by the shadows. "How old are you, Walter?" she asked.

The question took him by surprise. "I'll be thirteen next week," he replied. "How old are you?"

She winked. It sent shivers down his spine. "How old do you think I am?"

"I donno," he shrugged. "If I have to guess, thirteen maybe."

"O.K.," Alucard nodded. "Then I'm thirteen."

"That makes no sense."

"Not everything in this world makes sense."

Walter shook his head in frustration. His cigarette was getting short. "You're so weird," he said. "It's like you're always speaking in riddles. And why are you dressed like that? It's such a weird getup for a girl. And what kind of name is Alucard anyway?"

Alucard burst out laughing, as if he had just told the world's funniest joke. "You're so funny, Walter!" she exclaimed. "So many questions. If I answer them, will you answer one of mine?"

"Fair enough."

"O.K." The girl composed herself and dropped the cigarette onto the ground. "I dress like this because I feel like it," she said, stepping on the cigarette with her white ankle boot. "It's comfortable and easy to move in, though I can wear whatever I want. If you're asking why I don't wear a dress, well, I suppose I could, but it's awfully hard to be taken seriously in those silly things. I'm not related to Arthur, though I'm bound to him by servitude. I suppose you can call it a contract of a sort. If you're speaking in terms of not having any living parents, then yes I am an orphan. And finally, Alucard is _my_ name. That is all I can tell you."

Walter rolled the information in his head. The girl was sneaky, managing to answer all his questions without giving him any further information, but a deal was a deal. "Alright," he said, putting out his own cigarette on the ground. "You can ask me a question."

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

He started. "What?"

Alucard stepped closer to him, so close he could catch her scent. It was a very unique smell he couldn't quite place, and not all unpleasant.

"I asked if you think I'm pretty," she said. "It's a pretty simple question. You don't have to lie. I just want to know what you think."

He felt heat on his face again as the girl smirked at him. What could he say? Though not having had much contact with girls his age beyond a few half-starved unfortunates at the orphanage, he knew Alucard was pretty. She was nothing like the girls at the orphanage, dirty and desperate. She was clean, prim, and proper, not a hair out of place. She spoke with intelligence and sharp wit, like lady who's been places and seen things more than most three times her age.

Walter swallowed thickly. "Yea," he said, trying not to meet her bright eyes. "I think you are."

She giggled, and then was gone, stealthy as a shadow. He looked down and saw that she had left the pack of cigarettes in his hand.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

NOTE: yes, Walter's 14 in Dawn. But this is PRE – Dawn (wink wink). By the time Dawn rolls around, he'll be 14.

Chapter 4

The next few days went by in a blur. Walter found himself busier than he'd ever been. Every morning Alucard barged into his room and hopped onto his bed at six o'clock on the dot, despite his repeated attempts to assure her that he could get up by himself. She usually brought him breakfast, and after he ate, would give him work to do for the morning, then disappear for the rest of the day. Walter wasn't certain why this was, seeing how very much she seemed to love pestering him. Perhaps Arthur had warned her not to disturb him while he worked.

Before noon, he would clean, learn to cook, greet visitors (usually men dressed in impeccable suits who never gave him a second look), and sometimes sent off the estate to shop for household items. After twelve o'clock "the frog" would arrive and cram his brain full of information to be stewed on later. At night he poured over the books and articles in his room.

Though young, Walter recognized that he had been given an opportunity. To learn and live a possibly full life was something he had never dreamed of before. Exhausted, worn, and tired, he was happy nonetheless and gladly soaked up everything thrown his way.

Arthur still did not explain why he was brought here, though he was beginning to wonder about it less and less. So the man wanted a good butler. That wasn't out of the ordinary. He seemed to be a very busy person, going in and out of the mansion at all hours of the day, leaving the library a bit messier each time. Walter had given up tidying it up entirely, just kept it in semi-passable order for Arthur's next visit.

In the evenings was when Alucard usually poked her head in on him again. Though he hated to admit it, it was a nice break from the daily tasks, and good to have someone his own age to talk to. He fancied that the girl felt the same way about him, seeing as there were no other children about the estate.

At the moment, as he sat on his bed reading _Dracula_, Alucard was pacing his room slowly, sticking her little hands into whatever she could. Walter ignored her. He had nothing to hide.

"Don't make a mess," he told her, not looking up from the book.

She grinned at him. "I'm not," she said, pulling over the drawer and rummaging through its contents. "You've been reading that book for an hour. Let's go for a walk."

"I'm busy. Why don't you go?"

The girl pouted. "It's no fun to walk by myself," she said, closing the drawer. Walter turned a page, and the next thing he knew she had climbed onto the bed, sitting very, very close to him. Determined not to let her see his unease, he kept reading.

"You're so moody today," Alucard said, whispering into his ear. "Shall I guess why?"

"Have at it."

"Are the fleas biting you in your sleep?"

Walter rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'm not a stray dog."

"That's too bad. I like dogs." Alucard put a hand over his book, blocking out most of the page he was reading. "Let me take another guess. Is it because no one remembered your birthday?"

The question was a surprising one. For a moment Walter had no idea what the girl was talking about. Then it hit him: even he had forgotten about it. Closing the book, he set it aside.

"I don't remember telling you what day my birthday was."

"It's not that hard to guess." Alucard tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You told me a while ago that it was 'next week' and more than a week has passed since then, so I'm assuming it's just passed, right?"

Walter shook his head. "I don't know."

"You don't?"

"I don't actually know what day my birthday is. The people at the orphanage estimated it's around now, so I always assumed."

Alucard stroke his arm sympathetically, sending goose bumps down his spine. "How sad," she said, "to never know one's birthday."

"It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," she said stubbornly. "We should have a birthday party for you or something."

"No."

"You need something special."

"No I don't." Walter picked up his book again. "I've got a roof over my head and enough food for the first time in my life. I don't need anything else."

"What a dull boy you are."

"That I am." He raised the book so that it was squarely between their faces. "Now, let me read."

"Well, I…" Alucard paused. The hand on his arm lifted. Slowly, Walter lowered the book and saw the girl standing by the window, looking out through a gap in the drapes. Noticing his gaze, she winked at him and said, "I gotta go. I'll be back later, O.K.?"

Before he could reply, she rushed out of the room, her hurried footsteps barely audible. Curiously, he got out of bed and looked out the window.

From where he was, he would see a corner of the manor's front court, where at least twenty-five heavily armed soldiers have gathered around several vehicles. There was quite a bit of commotion and he could pick up the sound of urgent conversation. A small shadow darted past them out of the corner of his eye, but was already gone when he turned for a better look. Arthur Hellsing was there. One of the soldiers stepped forward, saluted, and was given instructions. He gestured for the others to move out.

_It's like they're going to war_.

Certainly there was civil unrest all over the continent, so a war wouldn't be very surprising. But soldiers from a private estate? At this time of night? Somehow, Walter had a nagging feeling that a certain dark-haired girl was somewhere among the departing vehicles. But why?

He watched, pressing his face against the glass until they were all out of sight, then went back to bed. Suddenly reading seemed most uninteresting. Something inside him was stirring, making him restless. He stuck his head out the door of his room, made sure no one was coming down the hall, then locked it.

Under his bed was the old duffel bag he brought from the orphanage. Walter fished it out on his hands and knees, looked around again for good measurement, and reached into a hidden compartment. Even Alucard didn't manage to get her hands on this one. Out of it he pulled a small spool of thread.

It wasn't ordinary thread. It was a special kind of fishing line, thin and tough. He couldn't remember who it was he swiped it from, but it's been a long time. Standing, he unwound a good length, wrapped it around his fingers once, and let it fly.

If an ordinary person walked in right now, they would not see the thread, for how fast it moved, flying seemingly wild, but completely controlled. Walter moved his feet gracefully, twisting his fingers in exactly the perfect angles, allowing the thread to dance around him, moving as if it was a sentient being at his command. It took a few moments for it to come back to him, but once it did, it felt so good, so natural, this talent that he had been forced to suppress for years. Back in the days it had been nothing more than a party trick at first, until he discovered other uses for it, and was subsequently punished for it.

But the room was small, and ten minutes later the thread finally managed to snag on the bedposts. Walter swore, untangled it, and rewound it back onto the spool. He started to put it back into the bag, hesitated, and tucked it into his pocket instead.

oOo

He read no more that night. Instead, Walter cleaned himself up and went to bed early. The brief exercise he had put him in a good, restful sleep.

That was, until a familiar figure hopped onto his bed.

The whole bed bounced. Groaning, Walter rubbed his eyes. _You have got to be kidding me…_

Large eyes stared down at him. A slender finger poked his cheek.

_Nope…_

Groggily, he opened his eyes. Sure enough, there she was. Alucard, in all her glory, neatly dressed and primped as usual. "Is it six already?" he muttered.

She shook her head, giggling. "Nope," she said. "It's one-thirty."

It took his sleepy mind a moment to process this, then another moment to wonder whether he would get in trouble if he knocked some sense into her. Finally, he settled on pulling the blanket over his head.

A heavy object landed on the blanket. He didn't bother to look.

"I got you a birthday present," he heard Alucard say. There was some movement, then silence.

He considered going back to sleep, but the blanket was hot and heavy. Sighing, Walter pushed it off and propped himself up on his elbows.

The room was empty. Had he dreamed it? He hoped not. The object on top of him caught his eye before he laid back down. Turning on the light, he picked it up and examined it. It was a gold watch, a bit large for his slender wrist and very heavy, with excellent craftsmanship. Cautiously, as if it might explode, Walter turned it over in his hand, then tried it on. Too big. But he supposed he could grow into it. As he took it off to place on the nightstand, something else popped into his vision.

The watch had left a red stain on his wrist. He rubbed it with his thumb and it came off. Did it come from the watch? He looked at the inside of the band. Sure enough, there was a dark red liquid seeped into the gaps on some of the pieces. His first thought was rust. But the watch looked brand new.

It couldn't be… _blood?_

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTE: yes, yes I know a lot of my stories tend to involve people stowing away in the back of a car/truck/whatever.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 5

As his days under Hellsing's servitude went on, Walter began to have a better grasp of the job. For example, what to say to certain guests who arrive unannounced, how to cook certain dishes quickly if needed, where to put certain valuable books and artifacts, and when to stay out of Arthur's way (usually when he's had too much to drink).

He also learned how to make tea, and was surprisingly good at it.

His lessons with the frog-like tutor were dull but going well. Arthur seemed pleased at his progress and was allowing him more responsibilities around the manor. He still wasn't certain what to make of the man, who seemed serious and yet all too sly at the same time. Sometimes he was sure Arthur was studying his movements as he walked and worked, the way one would the mechanisms of an engine. He had no idea what the man was looking for, but did not question it.

He wore the watch Alucard gave him. It was heavy and often got in the way of his chores, but somehow he felt a certain obligation to have it on. Something told him Alucard went to a lot of trouble to get it, though he was a little afraid to ask where from.

He discovered more things about the estate, such as there was a training field and a shooting range out back. This in itself wasn't surprisingly, considering the soldiers, but it only made him wonder more as to why they were here in the first place. Been the mischievous person she was, Alucard dodged the question left and right, while Arthur simply told him to be patient. Eventually he set the question on the backburner and left it there.

Two months passed without incident. Winter was arriving, though the Hellsing household seemed to take little notice of the holidays. Walter didn't want to admit it, but he was a bit disappointed, having hoped to experience some true holiday cheer. The orphanage had a tree on Christmas yet completely lacked any further recognition of the season.

Alucard was watching him dust the bookshelves in the library, which has been in much better condition since his arrival. Behind the sofa she sat on, early snow was falling outside the window, painting the night a gentle white.

"You missed a spot," she told him.

"Thank you." He wiped the spot. "I have a question for you."

"You can ask but that doesn't mean I'll answer it."

"It's not the usual one." Walter hopped off the stool he'd been standing on. "What do you do during the day?"

"Why do you want to know?" She watched him start on the desks. "Do you miss me?"

"I'm just curious. I never see you anywhere during the day, and to me, you don't seem like one who would miss any chances at making a spectacle of yourself."

Alucard laughed cheerily. "If you have to know," she said. "I sleep."

He wiped off a large lamp. "All day?"

"I said I'm a night person, didn't I?"

Walter eyed her. She looked back at him in all innocence. "You can't sleep all day and stay awake all night all the time. No one does that."

"I do."

He shook his turn and went back to work. "You're abnormal."

"That's one way to put it."

"No wonder you're always up so early. You're probably just getting to bed."

"Yep."

They were silent for a moment. "Alright," Walter said finally, dusting off his hands. "What do you do all night?"

Alucard hopped off the chair and went to him. "You want to know?" she asked, a little too eagerly.

Suddenly regretting having asked, Walter nodded hesitantly. Alucard grinned and took his hand. "Come on!" she exclaimed. "I'll show you!"

Before he could issue any protests, Walter found himself dragged through the mansion's halls, out the front door, and to the front of the estate. When Alucard stopped momentarily he had to catch his breath. The girl was amazingly fast. Not bothering to check on him, she pulled him along again, this time to the east of the estate, where several vehicles he had become rather familiar with were parked. A few men were milling about, but at a distance.

"Why… are we here?" he asked, panting. Alucard waved for him to be quiet.

"You wanted to see what I do, right?" she asked him mischievously. "I'm showing you." That smirk appeared again. "Or are you chicken?"

"I'm not chicken!" he snapped, and tried to pull his hand out of her grasp. She was surprisingly strong and held tight. "I don't want to get in trouble!"

"You won't," she said, casting a quick glance around. "Just blame it all on me."

"Don't think I won't!" Walter said as she dragged him towards the vehicles. They were large, armor plated, and quite menacing in the night. Alucard unlocked the back door to the nearest one. It was filled with various weapons. She hopped inside and pulled him after her. Walter resisted.

"Are you kidding me?" he hissed, keeping his voice down. "I'm not going in there!"

With all his strength, he yanked on her hand, trying to pull her back out. She didn't budge. Instead, she smirked at him. "Come inside."

"No!"

"Fine." She let go. He nearly fell backwards. "I'll go by myself then. I don't need a wimpy butler boy following me."

Suddenly filled with the urge to tear his hair out, Walter looked around quickly. More soldiers were filing out of the mansion, approaching the vehicles. "Get out of there!" he demanded. "You're going to get in trouble… or get hurt!"

Alucard blinked. "How do you know? You don't even know where we're going."

"I know we're not supposed to be playing around in there."

Reaching over, Alucard grasped the handle of one of the double doors. "Like I said," she chimed innocently, "I can go by myself. That is, if you're not concerned that I'll… get hurt, as you put it."

Grinding his teeth, Walter pulled himself into the vehicle. With a triumphant grin, Alucard pulled the doors shut. They sat in the darkness.

"I hate you so much," he said to her. The girl just chuckled.

oOo

Not ten minutes passed after they entered the vehicle did it start moving. If Walter didn't know better he would've thought Alucard timed and planned the whole thing. Of course, that wasn't beyond her, this girl who seemed to live for mischief. As they rode, he could tell she was watching him, even in the darkness.

"So where _are_ we going?"

"Somewhere fun," she replied. "You'll see."

"This is what you do at night?"

She giggled, something she seemed to do an awful lot. She was such a girl, and yet… "Only on the good nights. On the bad nights there's nothing exciting going on."

"This is exciting? Sneaking around with the soldiers?"

"Isn't it?"

Though he hated to admit it, she was right. This _was_ exciting. Leaning against the truck's wall, Walter rubbed his hands. It was getting chilly. Alucard seemed to read his mind.

"Are you cold?" she asked.

He nodded. "A little. I wish I brought a coat. Of course, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind when you said you'd show me what you do."

There was a rustle. A silver of moonlight snuck in through the gap in the doors and Walter saw Alucard directly in front of him on all fours, one of her hands propped on the floor between his legs and the other to his left.

"Want me to warm you up?" she whispered, in a tone much too seductive for her age.

Walter's mouth went dry. He wringed his hands. "Uh…"

Alucard reached into her coat pocket and removed her silver lights. With a soft click, the cabin was filled with a gentle orange glow. She held the small flame to him. "Go ahead, warm your hands."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he did, rubbing his cold palms together. "Thank God," he muttered under his breath, "I thought you meant…"

"What?" Alucard sat down behind him, holding the lighter up, innocence once again washing over her face. "What did you think I mean?"

Glad that the darkness hid the blush in his cheeks, Walter kept his mouth shut as the vehicle reeled to a stop. There was much clamoring outside and for a moment he worried that someone was going to open the door and discover them. Alucard must have thought the same thing. She was sitting by the door, pressed closely against it and listening. But no one came. After a while, silence ensued.

"We're here," Alucard announced, and pushed open the doors.

The thin whistling of mountain wind greeted them. Apprehensively, Walter got out after Alucard. The vehicles have been parked on a dirt road by a patch of woods. No one was around save for them and a driver who was smoking and standing guard by another car. Judging by the prints in the dirt, the rest of the soldiers have headed off into the woods.

"O.K.," Walter said, crossing his arms. "We're here, you had your fun. Let's just wait for them to come back."

Ignoring him, Alucard looked around, dusted off her pants, and headed straight for the woods without a look back. Nervously, Walter followed, not wanting to leave her by herself. She led him through a winding trail, though he couldn't begin to guess how she knew where she was going in the dark night. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, the sound of gunfire filled his ears.

"What's going on?" he asked, yelling over the noise, which was growing louder by the second, accompanied by panicked voices. "What is all that?"

Alucard tossed him a sly wink. "That means we haven't missed the fun," she told him, and bounded onward. With his heart constricting uncomfortably, Walter struggled to keep up.

Eventually they reached a clearing, and the gunfire was no less than deafening. Alucard stopped short, causing Walter to nearly run into her. She gestured for him to come forward and look. Apprehensively, he did.

Before him was a scene of battle. To his right were the soldiers of Hellsing, weapons raised and firing into the night. To his left, a bit further off, was a group of people, advancing towards the soldiers in slow, unhurried steps. Bullets pummeled their bodies, though they seemed to feel no pain. Every now and then one would drop to the ground, and the rest would walk over him. Their bodies were swaying in an unnatural way.

"Aim for the head!" he heard someone yell. "Don't waste your time with anything else! Head and chest only!"

A few more went down, but the rest were now close enough for Walter to see that they were unarmed. In fact, they were dressed in civilian's clothing. Were they attacking people? A massacre? Something within nagged that it wasn't that simple.

Alucard was watching with delight in her eyes. Nervously, Walter gripped her shoulder. "What's going on?" he asked shakily. "Who are those people?"

"They're enemies," she replied simply.

"They're people!"

"They used to be people."

The clouds parted, allowing the winter moon to light up the clearing. Ashen faces filled Walter's sight. The men and women coming towards the soldiers were lolling heavily, dragging their feet, their mouths open. As he watched, one, a woman, took a bullet right between the eyes. She stood as if in shock, then fell backwards, disintegrating into dust before she even hit the ground.

A half-scream escaped him as he stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell to the ground. Alucard laughed cheerily, as if watching nothing more than a funny skit. Walter looked at the clearing, then at her. She looked very pale in the moonlight.

"Wh-what is that?" he stammered. "What are they?"

"They're servants of the enemy," replied Alucard, still giggling as if he had told a joke. "You really should learn to listen better." She turned back to the battle. "But the real fun hasn't started yet."

As if on cue, the soldiers stopped firing. Most of the gray-skinned monsters have fallen, and the remainders were on their last legs, literally. Walter swallowed thickly as a soldier put a bullet into the head of one of the creatures, which was still crawling forward after having lost one leg at the knee.

Then there was silence, and tension in the air. Walter could sense it, could smell it, along with gunpowder and blood. His heart pounded loudly. The soldiers were alert, their weapons still raised, looking about in all directions.

"He's coming," he heard Alucard say.

"Who's coming?"

"The vampire." Walter blinked, trying to process how ridiculous this was. "He's angry that he just lost his servants."

"Are you joking?"

Alucard didn't reply. Her eyes flashed brightly. Slowly, Walter crept forward and looked into the clearing again, just in time to see a shadowy figure dash out of the woods paw through the ashen creatures, and land in front of the soldiers. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a man, and yet not. Though dressed in a dark shirt and pants like a normal person, it crouched on the ground like an animal, a predator. Pulling back its lips, it snarled, showing canines much too sharp. Its eyes were the color of blood.

"Fire!"

Gunfire filled the air once more. The creature jumped, letting it "servants" take the shots. The way it moved was inhuman. One minute it was before the soldiers, then it was behind, then above, dashing and dodging the bullets. The soldiers were panicked, he saw. They hadn't managed to land a single shot on the thing.

Alucard squeal in delight. Flabbergasted, Walter turned to her. She was grinning ear to ear, watching the action in the clearing.

"A level-two!" she exclaimed. "I haven't seen one of those in so long!"

"What are you talking about!" Gripping her arm firmly, Walter tried to pull her away. "Let's go before we get hurt!"

She winked at him. He hated it when she winked at him. "No we won't," she said stubbornly. "Come on!"

Instead of pulling her back, Walter found himself been dragged for the second time that night, smack into the center of the clearing. How was she so _strong_? Pull him behind her, Alucard dashed towards the soldiers, right into the vampire's way.

Gunfire ceased immediately. The soldiers spotted them. Walter felt cold sweat on his brow. The vampire did, too, a split second later. It looked at them with its narrow red eyes, then at the soldiers, then charged for them.

Time seemed to slow.

One part of his mind screamed that this wasn't true, it was a nightmare. The other moved into action. One of his hands shot out and shoved Alucard out of the way, pushing the girl down into the snow out of the beast's reach. The other hand he felt as if he couldn't control. Instinct led it to his pocket, where he'd kept the spool of fishing line since that night.

His fingers wrapped around it, threw it. His feet turned, pivoting out of the way just in time for the vampire to dive past him, missing him by a hair. His fingers twisted. The wire wrapped around the thing's face. It landed in the snow.

Walter jumped onto its back, pinning it to the ground.

Then he pulled.

The thing let out a horrid shriek as the lines dug into its face, tightening around its head. Excitement, fear, and anger swam in a mess in Walter's head as he pulled on the fishing line with all his might. It dug into his skin mercilessly. The thing writhed under him, clawing at its head.

He kept his grip and kept pulling.

Large pools of red stained the white snow. He wasn't sure how much time passed. At last it fell silent, its face mutilated and its skull fractured beyond recognition. Cold air was going in and out of his lung rapidly.

The fishing line fell from his hand, soaked red. Trembling, Walter stepped back and was suddenly aware of many pair of eyes on him. The soldiers were staring at him, standing over his kill.

His _kill…_

He looked down at his right hand. There were deep cuts between all of his fingers, and many more on the joints. His palm was painted red, dripping down his wrist. If it wasn't so damned cold, he was sure, it would hurt a lot right now.

He panted, trying to catch his breath and make sense of what he had done, and failed at the latter.

Alucard was sitting on the ground where he had pushed her, watching him, smirking like she always did. Shakily, he walked towards her, one step at a time and trying not to fall. His legs felt like spaghetti. She looked up at him as he stood over her.

Dropping to his knees, he grabbed both of her shoulders tightly, his blood soaking into her coat.

"What's wrong with you!" He yelled at her. "Are you stupid! What did you think you were doing! You could've been killed!"

She giggled, and the next thing he knew her arms were wrapped around his neck.

"My hero," she purred, and kissed him firmly on the lips.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The ride back was silent. The soldiers ushered them both to one of the cars, stashed their weapons away, and talked softly amongst themselves. At least he got to ride up front this time, with a hard-faced driver who gave his paranoid side-glances. Sitting cross-legged next to him, Alucard looked out the window and hummed to herself nonchalantly, as if they were returning from a Sunday outing. It took all his willpower not to reach out and slap her upside the head.

As his body warmed up a bit, his hand began to ache. His wounds stung like a million tiny bees. The blood was seeping into his white sleeve. The sight of it made him shudder.

Most of the soldiers scattered upon their arrival at the estate. The driver let them out and examined his hand.

"You'll want to get that cleaned up," he told Walter, who nodded. "The boss is gonna want to talk to you in the morning."

He wanted to ask what about, but realized it was pretty obvious. He was in trouble. He had snuck out without permission, gotten himself into the middle of something dangerous, and will possibly get blamed for putting Alucard, obviously in Arthur's favor, in danger. Even though it _was_ her fault, he felt that if she turned on him, he would probably be left holding the short end of the stick.

Alucard scooted close to him. Frowning, he pushed her away and headed to his room, ignoring her as she followed him. In the washroom, he cleaned his hand and stripped off his shirt and vest.

"Get out," he told her as she sat on his bad.

She played with her hair. "It's still early."

"I don't want you here."

She pouted. He hated it when she did that. "What did I do?"

Walter rubbed his temps. My God, she couldn't possibly be this dense! "What did you do?" he snapped. "You probably just got me kicked out! I'm going to get blamed for this and Arthur is going to be angry! I'm in big trouble and all you want to do is play! This isn't a game!"

She stood and in a single step was in front of him. Surprised, he stepped back and found himself backed up against the wall. Alucard moved in close, almost uncomfortably close.

"I know it's not a game," she said softly. The tiny hairs on his face tingled. "Like I told you before, just blame it all on me." With one hand she stroked his arm. "But don't worry. Nothing bad will happen. I did Arthur a favor. Actually, a favor to both of you."

She leaned in. He thought she was going to kiss him again, but she paused, and pecked him on the cheek instead, and left the room. For several minutes he stood there, long after her departure, and touched the cold spot on his face where her lips were.

oOo

Arthur was waiting for him in the library the next morning. He was drinking a bottle of whiskey methodically, one small glass at a time. Walter fought the urge to point out the fact that it was only 8 a.m.

Arthur barely looked at him when he entered. Emptying his latest glass, he gestured at the empty sofa next to him. "Have a seat," he said.

Walter hesitated, but did as he was told. His right hand was crudely bandaged and still stinging like crazy. Arthur poured another glass of whiskey, raised it half way to his lips, and stopped short. He looked at Walter and chuckled.

"How rude I'm being," he said, and held the glass out to him. "Here, have a drink."

Walter looked at the glass, then up at his master (_though probably not for long_, he thought), and took it, but did not drink.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked him, looking somewhat amused.

"Um, no disrespect intended, sir…" Walter tapped the glass nervously. "It's just… I'm thirteen."

Arthur laughed loudly. "So what?" he said. "If you're not too young to smoke, you're not too young to drink, isn't that right? Don't think I didn't catch all those smokes Alucard has been slipping you."

Right. Of course. Walter downed the drink. It was so strong his eyes watered. He coughed, and sat the glass aside.

"Great stuff, isn't it?" Arthur said. "Now then, about last night." Walter felt the hair on the back of his neck stand. "I understand there was some unusual activity out on the field."

"Sir, I…"

Arthur silenced him with a raised hand. "No need to explain. I know you must have an explanation prepared. You can junk it." He leaned forward and looked Walter straight in the eye, or as straight as he could manage under the influence of three-fourth a bottle of whiskey. "What do you know about this world, Walter?"

Walter blinked. "Very little, sir."

"That is the correct answer," Arthur declared. "Most people know very little about this world we live in. It has lots of dark secrets, awful things that the general public either isn't informed of or chooses to ignore. Can you name one of them? You saw one last night."

"I…"

"Vampires!" Arthur interrupted him, which was just as well. The alcohol was making his head swimmy. "That's right. They exist, and not just in storybooks. Vampires are very real and they walk among us. Do you know anything about them?"

Walter considered this. "Nothing more than I heard in stories, sir."

"Then consider this your second lesson." Arthur leaned back in his chair. "The first one you had last night. You saw how powerful a vampire was, did you not? You saw its speed, strength, and bloodlust. You saw the ghouls it made out of living people by draining their blood. A vampire possesses all these powers and more – inhuman reflexes, a sixth sense, connection to wild animals… but most importantly, they are arrogant creatures, with an undeniable superiority complex and a hunger for dominance."

"I never knew they were real."

"Then you now know more than 99.9 of the human population." Arthur poured himself another glass of whiskey. "Are you surprised?"

As his groggy mind tried to take everything in, Walter could only nod.

"Alucard made you go, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"The little scamp." Arthur swirled the whiskey in his glass. "Well then, I think the time has come for me to finally answer that question you've been asking me, about why you're really here. But before I do that, how is your hand doing?"

Walter raised his bandaged hand. Strangely, it wasn't hurting. Perhaps the alcohol was dulling his senses. "It'll be fine, sir."

"We can't have you hurting yourself." Arthur picked up a box next to the whiskey bottle that Walter hadn't noticed until that moment. "Here. Try these on."

Curious, he took the box and opened it. Inside was a pair of gloves. They were made of a tough black material he wasn't familiar with, and had no fingers. Instead, at the base of each finger was a thick metal ring. He took one out and pulled it over his good hand. It fit perfectly. Arthur handed him another object.

"No more cheap thread and fishing lines. From now on you use this, and there's plenty more where it came from."

It was a spool, no bigger than the one he had lost the night before. But this one was different. Wrapped neatly around its core was a thick layer of microfilament wires. It shone like steel, but was also soft and flexible. Walter unwound several feet and wrapped it around his gloved hand. The metal rings protected the base of fingers without hindering movement. It felt wonderful.

"Tell me," Arthur was saying, "can you do that little trick of yours with one hand?"

Hazily, he nodded.

"Good." Arthur pointed at the whiskey bottle. "Show me."

He wasn't certain what the man wanted, so he did the first thing he thought of. With a quick flick of the finger, he moved the wires, intending to wrap it around the bottle. To his surprise, the wires made a snapping motion, almost too fast to be seen. The bottle quivered, then fell to the floor, cut into several neat pieces.

"Whoa…" he breathed, staring the glass pieces dumbly. Arthur smiled.

"Excellent. I know you wouldn't disappoint me."

Walter looked up at his master, speechless. Arthur sipped his whiskey. "Last night was a big night," he said. "Last night you fulfilled your true duty as the butler of Hellsing for the first time. That's quite an accomplishment. Now the choice is yours. You see, Walter. The business of this family is killing. We kill the enemies of the world, the ones who endanger humankind. The ones we recruit are the ones destined to kill, born with the skill, such as yourself. You don't have to involve yourself in this war if you don't want to, in which case you can pack up and leave today, as this is a dangerous place. But if you want to help and put that little trick of yours to true use, then stay." The glass was empty now. Arthur stood, a bit unsteady on his feet but speaking perfectly clearly. "Are you willing, Walter C. Dolnez?"

Images and thoughts flooded his head. Walter got to his feet. He could smell blood again, the blood of the vampire he killed the night before. He could hear his heart pounding, his breath becoming short, and the feel once more the excitement and rush he experienced. He looked up at Arthur.

"It is no small feat, Walter. If you choose to stay, you would be one of the most values persons in this house, and soon to be one of the most feared in the world. But it is not glamour either. It is danger, life and death, and serving the greater purposes of this world. You would serve _Hellsing_."

Walter stood on shaky legs. His brain was buzzing like a beehive.

"You may have a few days to think about it." Arthur patted him on the shoulder like a father would a son and walked past him. "You can have the rest of the day off." He stopped at the door. "By and by, have you finished reading Dracula?"

"No, sir," Walter replied. "But I'm making progress."

"Good," Arthur said thoughtfully. "Good. When you finish, I'll answer whatever questions you still have."

The man was gone before Walter could ask him to clarify.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Alucard was waiting outside when he exited the library. She bounded to his side and walked with him to his room, though he ignored her. To his surprise, she didn't flood him with questions. Perhaps it was only because of this that he didn't snap at her to leave him alone. They went to his room. He closed the door as she sat on his bed.

"Well?"

He didn't look at her. Instead, he removed his vest and flexed his left hand. The glove felt like a second skin. "Shouldn't you be in bed, night owl?"

"I can be up whenever I want," she informed him smugly. "Are you staying here?"

The whiskey Arthur fed him was really beginning to get to him. Walter headed for the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. "I don't know," he said, wiping his face much too hard with a towel. "This is crazy. None of this feels real."

Alucard leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, her finger once more tangled in her perfect hair. "Lots of things about this world is unreal," she said. "Sometimes the line is nothing but a blur. But when you get down to it, it doesn't really matter, does it? What matters is what you do will do about it."

Hunched over the sink, Walter glanced at the girl. "You're so strange, you know?"

She giggled. "I know."

"One minute you're running around getting into trouble, the next you're all philosophical. It's like you enjoy keeping everyone guessing."

"Just you."

He walked past her and flopped onto his bed, laying on his back. His wandering eyes counted the bumps on the ceiling. A moment later Alucard did the same.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him.

"My parents."

"I thought you lived at the orphanage as long as you could remember."

He nodded. "I did, and that's why I think about them. I've always wondered if I have a purpose in life, whether who they were should have determined something about my life, some path I'm supposed to take."

"Did you ever figure it out?"

"Not even close."

She faced him, laying on her side with her head pillowed on her arm. "Does it really matter?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean right now they're not real. If you don't know anything about them, then they're no more real than a dream or a nightmare. What's in front of you right now is more real than they are. Your skills are real and Hellsing is real."

"Is what Arthur said true?"

"Arthur says lots of things."

"About me. About how I could become one of the most feared people in the world."

Alucard shifted herself on top of him, planting her hands firmly to either side of him. Her long hair fell onto his face and tickled his cheek. Walter moved uncomfortable but she didn't leave him much room.

"Do you want to be?" she asked him, staring deep into his eyes. "Does that idea send a stirring through your loins? Does it excite you?"

His tongue felt like lead.

"Let me tell you something," she whispered, "you already are. Like I said before, you don't know what is real and what's not in this world a lot of the times. Your existence, one with skills like yours, is already an anomaly. You were born to fight, meant to kill, and you can't escape it. You'll do it without breaking a sweat and you'll enjoy it. That's who you are. Even if you leave here, that little trick of yours will consume you one day."

She flopped onto her back again, leaving Walter to figure out that he's been holding his breath for nearly a minute. He inhaled sharply and coughed.

"You could become a circus freak," Alucard was saying, "or a thief or something. Pretty good money in either one, I guess, but in my opinion this is better. And I think you'll like it here."

"You sound like you already know my decision."

"One who speaks so highly of purpose and destiny often knows the best path. And besides," she sat up and got off the bed, "I'm pretty. You said so yourself."

Chuckling, Walter sat up. He watched her adjust her jacket and head for the door. "Alucard?"

She stopped. "Yes?"

"I just want to know one thing." He paused, debated in his head, then decided to ask anyway. "Why did you kiss me?"

Alucard smiled. "Because you saved my life," she purred in the same voice she used right before their kiss. Somehow Walter felt like that wasn't the reason.

"So is that is then? That's what you do every day? Sneak around with the soldiers looking for a danger high?"

She bit her lip. "Not exactly."

"What _do _you do then?"

An unreadable expression came over Alucard's face. "Tell you what," she said, "next time we go, I'll show you. There wasn't enough time this time. But I promise, next time I'll show you."

"I haven't said I'll stay yet."

"You will."

oOo

Alucard was right. Walter did stay. But it was not until after a night three days later that he made up this mind for sure. Alucard had barged in on him in the evening, which had really become the routine.

"Don't make a mess," he said as she walked in, expecting her to root through his things as usual. He was reading _Dracula_ again, and starting to agree with Alucard that it was a fairly advanced book. He had no idea people back then used to many words to describe a particularly sunny day.

She yanked the book out of his hand and flung it aside carelessly. It landed on top of the dresser. Walter rolled his eyes. There was no arguing with her when she's like this. "Did you want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"How's your hand?"

He shrugged and held up his wounded hand. It was healing fairly well, though the deeper cuts between the fingers were going to itch for a few more days. "It's fine."

"Good." She grabbed his good hand and pulled, nearly causing him to tumble onto the floor. He marveled at her strength once more.

"What do you want?"

Alucard wrapped both her hands around his. "Let's go," she said, dragging him to the door, then suddenly stopped. "Wait, where are your gloves?"

"In the dresser."

She pushed him. "Well put them on!" she cried.

Fumbling in the bottom drawer, Walter found the ringed gloves Arthur had given him. He slipped them on, began to stand, then hesitated and grabbed the spool of wires, too. Alucard was tapping the floor impatiently with her foot.

"Are we going somewhere?" he asked, intentionally speaking slow and using the same teasing tone she always did. _She's rubbing off on me._

"We're going hunting," she said excitedly.

"Are we going to ride in the back of that truck again?" Memories of the chilly night came back to him. "Let me grab a jacket."

Stepping forward, she seized his arm. "No time. Besides, we'll be riding up front this time."

Amused, he let her lead, or rather pull, him outside. She was adorable when excitement flushed her face. As if these little trips were her Christmas mornings. Once outside, however, Walter saw with surprise that instead of numerous troops gathering like last time, there was only one vehicle, with a single uniformed man leaning against it. As they drew near, he recognized him as the same soldier who greeted him on the day of his arrival.

The man straightened as they approached. He raised a hand and tilted his hat at them.

"Evening," he said gruffly. "Hate to cut the pleasantries short but we're a bit pressed for time." He gave Walter a strange look, then turned to Alucard. "You sure about this?"

Alucard scoffed. "You let me worry about that," she said, shocking Walter with her boldness. "Where's the disturbance?"

"About twenty miles north-northeast." He opened the door to the cabin. "Get in."

It was beginning to make sense now. Walter held Alucard back as she moved to climb in. "Maybe you shouldn't go," he said. "I can handle this myself. I don't want you to get hurt."

The soldier let out a dry laugh. "You're pretty cocky, son," he said.

Walter scowled. "You should agree with me," he said sternly. "She almost got killed last time. I won't want that to happen and I don't think Sir Hellsing would either."

The soldier only smirked. "Trust me, boy," he said. "She's not the one I'm worried about."

Bewildered, Walter looked back and forth between the soldier and the girl. Wearing a mysterious smile, Alucard pulled him into the truck with her. The soldier slid into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Why isn't anyone else coming?" he asked as they drove.

Alucard played with her hair. "Why would we need anyone else?"

"There were at least twenty people last time."

"That's just for show. We were near a civilian district. It's easier to explain the commotion as a military drill than a vampire hunt. This time it's a secluded area. No witnesses. We don't need them."

He raised a brow. "_We?_"

"You and me."

"What _do_ you do, Alucard?"

"You're too impatient."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, until the truck stopped. Wherever they were, it was dead silent. The soldier tapped Alucard on the shoulder as they got out.

"Don't let the boy get killed," Walter heard him say. Alucard replied something inaudible, then slammed the door behind her.

They were on the edge of a wide field, overgrown with weeds. In the distance were the silhouettes of several abandoned houses, their roofs falling apart from time and weather. Judging by the looks of it, it may once have been a prosperous farm. Walter stood still for a moment, feeling the night air on his face. He could smell something rank and acidic, like rotting meat. Something inside him shifted, as if waking in anticipation. He was suddenly aware of everything around him, of the wind, the dirt beneath his feet, the rustling of the grass, and the lazy movements of the clouds in the sky.

A metallic clutter made him turn. Squinting to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, Walter spotted Alucard rummaging around in the back of the truck. A moment later she pulled out. In her hand was a large object, at least three-fourth her height. She closed the doors and came towards him.

It was a Tommy gun, a sleek black handheld compact machinegun that no thirteen-year-old should be allowed near.

"Let's go hunt us some freaks," she said, and headed straight into the field.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the following chapter contains general naughtiness, perhaps inappropriate for 13-year-olds. But hey, it's Hellsing, and they're just so cute I couldn't resist.

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 8

He followed her through the field. She moved like a ghost, silent and stealthy in the night. In some areas the weeds were taller than they were, and she often completely disappeared out of sight. The Tommy gun trailed behind her, held in her slender hand. Walter looked at it incredulously.

"Do you really use that thing?" he asked. She didn't answer, only waved for him to be silent. They were coming up on the side of the largest building, the farmhouse. It stood alone to one aside, apart from the others. To the east was a barn and a storage shed. Alucard stopped and tilted her head skyward. Walter saw her nostrils flare just a bit, as if sniffing the air.

"No playing around this time," she told him, her eyes fixed on the farmhouse. "No hesitation. If we go in, we don't stop until we come out."

"What do you mean by that?"

She looked at him. "Do you have your weapon?" He showed her the spool of wires. "Good. You do understand what we're doing here, don't you?"

The answer sounded ridiculous to him, but he said it anyway. "We're here to kill vampires."

She grinned toothily. "That's right. The wretched, the damned, the filth of this Earth. We're here to eliminate them. But we're taking out the garbage, that is all. Don't think of them as living creatures. They died when they gave up their souls in exchange for immortality."

Walter swallowed and looked at the farmhouse again. There was a single window on the nearest wall and he thought he detect movement. Somehow, he already knew that whatever was inside was wise to their presence.

"This is crazy."

"Can you kill, Walter?"

They looked at each other, nothing but the moonlight between them. "What?"

"Can you kill and enjoy it? Kill one and not hesitate before you move on to the next? Can you let your weapon do the work as if it's unattached to your body?" Alucard slung the Tommy gun over her shoulder. "Can you kill like me?"

It was a challenge, Walter saw, as the girl smirked ever so slightly. He wasn't sure who or what she was, but one thing was for sure: she was challenging him, goading him to show her what he could do, daring him to release his darker side and keep up with her. She was keeping something secrets, he knew. There was much more to her than what met the eye.

"Why don't you show me how you kill?"

This response seemed to satisfy her. Holding her gun at her side, Alucard walked up to the door of the farmhouse. Walter stayed at her side.

"What's the strategy?" he asked her. "Do we try for a sneak attack? Do we…"

She kicked the door in. It landed with a thundering crash, sending a huge dust cloud into the air. As it cleared, Walter flexed his hands. The metal rings around his fingers clinked against each other.

_So much for sneaking._

The farmhouse was dark, but he could still see the figures before them, at least a dozen, crouched on the floor like animals, like the vampire he saw that night. Their red eyes dotted the darkness, swimming with anger, bloodlust, and, the most frightening of all, intelligence.

Nonchalantly, Alucard walked inside. Walter's heart pounded. Carefully, moving as little as possible, he spun the silver wires around his fingers. One of the vampires, a man dressed neatly in a brown suit, stepped forward. He was too polished, and too clean. If not for his mad eyes and glistening fangs, Walter would've thought him to be nothing more than a socialite gentleman.

"Hellsing," the man said. There was a low rumbling of conversation among his companions. "We've been waiting for you."

"Good to know," Alucard replied, equally politely. "You planned a welcoming party, how kind."

"We've had enough trouble with your lot," the vampire said, baring his teeth. He gestured to the others. "As you can see, there are quite a few who share that sentiment. It ends tonight."

Alucard giggled and tapped the barrel of her gun. "How nice of you to inform me."

The vampire gave her a killer glare. "You think this is a joke?" he hissed. Walter tensed up. He had stepped into the house after Alucard, keeping a nervous eyes on all the vampires around here. There were more than he first anticipated, perhaps twenty-five. "You think this is funny? We know all about you, the dog of Hellsing. Hunting us when you are one of…"

She shot his head off.

The movement was so quick that by the time Walter's mind registered, the vampire's headless body had already hit the floor. Alucard held the heavy gun, its barrel smoking, level in one hand.

"Who's next?" she asked loudly. A thick cloud moved over the moon.

The world exploded.

The vampires came at them from all sides, leaping into the air, their fangs bared and claw-like hands extended. Alucard took out three more before Walter had drawn a sharp breath.

"Look alive!" she snapped, and his instincts took over. The wires flew from his hands, filling the air with their dance. He turned, pulled, and two of the creatures lost them head and limbs. Dark blood splattered onto his face and clothing. He could smell them, feel their dampness. It fueled something inside.

He jumped, dodging out the way as another came straight for him, and took off the thing's left arm. It kept coming unhindered. He took its right arm and it still lunged forward.

"Aim for the head," Alucard yelled at him, taking out her own targets. Her aim was deadly, as if she could fire a thousand shots and never miss. Every bullet found its mark and with each shot another one fell.

Walter cut the head off several more. Their numbers were dwindling now, though it had only been a little more than three minutes since they entered. The walls and floor was stained with blood and littered with bodies.

His foot struck a stool. He stumbled, nearly falling, and gave a fraction of a second to a vampire who came at him from above. He moved his wires just a bit too late. Alucard shot it out of the air before it landed.

The silence that followed was explosive. Sweat was falling from his brow. Walter surveyed his surroundings and was suddenly aware that he was breathing very hard. The world swam into focus and he sat down heavily on the stool. His wires fell limp to the ground, and he kicked a severed hand out of the way.

"Good lord," he muttered, looking past the bodies outside the open door. The moon had come out once more, lighting the field with silver.

Alucard came up beside him, the Tommy gun on her shoulder. She was still perfect. Her hair was every bit as neat as if she had just spent an hour primping. There was no blood on her clothing, nor dust. And from the looks of it, she didn't even break a sweat.

"What's so good about the lord?" she said, gazing out at the field as he did. "Where was he a minute ago? They say God is always watching over us, but the truth is this is a Godless kingdom, where freaks run rampant and we're the ones who have to clean up the mess they leave behind."

Tiredly, Walter slowly spun his wires back onto the spool. "A bit cynical, aren't you?"

"Let's just say I'm not the praying type." Stepping over the debris, she exited the farmhouse and looked up at the sky. "I rather look at the moon."

He watched her standing out there, the moonlight on her face and the Tommy gun in her hand. There was something special about her. He thought about the way she moved, the way she fought, cool and calm. A moment later she turned and met his eyes.

"This is what I do," she said. "Are you satisfied now? I am the servant of the world's top vampire-hunting family, its sole assassin. But…" He stood and walked towards her. "I don't have to be."

They stood under the moon for a moment, facing each other, no sound around them but the whistling wind. Snow was falling again, landing on their shoulders like a million white fairies. Walter smiled.

"Do you still wonder?" he asked her.

"Wonder about what?"

"Whether I can kill without regret?"

She shook her head. Flakes of fresh snow fell from her hair. "No. I have no reason to. You killed like a Shinigami. An Angel of Death." She giggled. "Walter the Angel of Death. I should call you that from now on."

"Then that will be my name." He kissed her. Her lips were cold and sweet, like the winter night.

oOo

He told Arthur the next morning that he had decided to stay. The man smiled knowingly, took a drink of whiskey, and informed him that his lessons would be extended for the next four days to make up for the one day he missed.

His schedule intensified. Not only did it included his usual chores and extra lessons, Arthur now demanded that he exercised in the evenings and mornings, trained on the range in armed and unarmed combat three times a week, and read stack after stack of the Hellsing family archives to study up on vampire behavior and traits.

Walter was beyond exhausted. His German lessons were beginning to sound a lot like gibberish and dolphin squeaks. European history made no sense and he was getting rather tired of re-tidying up the library every time Arthur visited it. The man was a slob.

Still, he was grateful for it all. He felt stronger, more agile, and his limbs were looser and much more flexible. He spoke with more grace and just a hint of gentlemanly charm. The archives were intriguing to say the least. He poured over them every chance he got.

But what gave him the most joy, the most pleasure, though he hated to admit it, was Alucard's company. She still woke him up each morning and visited his room every night. Every now and then she would even stop by to see him in the middle of the day, though he could tell doing so often made her tired and lethargic. She sure kept a strange schedule, that girl.

Whenever she was near, he could feel his pulse pick up just a little, and his cheeks flushed if she whispered something in his ear. Once or twice she trained with him on the range and he found himself admiring her marksmanship, so sharp it was unreal. When she laughed, be it with him or at him, his chest felt tight. Though never having had a proper education in the mysteries of man and woman, Walter knew they were both too young to entertain some of the thoughts he had. But still, he was thirteen, and in light of his experiences since entering the Hellsing household, Walter's thirteen was a stone's throw away from becoming a man.

There were other things going on about the household, hushed conversations that became louder over time. He and Alucard went "hunting" a few more times, twice with other troops, three times without. More well-dressed men were visiting Arthur, talking in serious tones behind closed doors. Soon his regular lessons were set aside in favor of more reading materials on vampires, ghouls, and even some related folklores. Had he listened closely, he would've noticed certain words, such as "increased Median activity", "vampire production", "Nazi regime", and "Germany" been tossed back and forth between the manor's staff, troops, and Arthur himself.

But he didn't pay attention. Couldn't, really. Not when the halls echoed with the giggles of a little raven-haired Lolita.

oOo

Walter wiped the sweat from his forehead from the workout he had just finished. Surveying the destroyed targets, he made a mental comparison. Just above average this time, at a hit rate of about 85. He needed to keep practicing, at least to keep Alucard from gloating all the time about her own rate, which she boasted was 99.9.

"I don't believe you," he told her, gathering up his wires. Alucard shrugged. She took out the cigarette between her lips and handed it to Walter.

"You don't have to believe me," she said as he puffed on it. "When the time comes, all it matters is that I'm hitting and you're not."

"You're so cocky."

"Only because I have a reason to be." She picked up the Tommy gun lying next to her feet. "One day I'm going to trade this thing in for something less cumbersome."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. A handgun maybe. But I don't know if it could pack as much of a punch as this baby." Slinging the gun over her shoulder, she leaned over and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth. "Finished for the day?"

Walter tucked the wires into his pocket. "I guess so. What do you want to do now?"

Standing close, she ran his tie through her fingers. "Let's go to your room," she said. "I could always riffle through your stuff again."

A thought suddenly occurred to him. "How about we go to your room?" he asked.

For a split second Alucard froze. She looked as if she had been slapped across the face. "No," she said.

"How come? I've never even seen your room."

"It's dark," she said shortly. "It's in the basement and there are no windows or light. You won't like it."

"How do you know?"

She kissed him. It was a very forceful kiss, as if she wanted to shut him up, get off the subject. Walter blinked in surprise as she pulled away. There was a strange expression on her face, as if she was pleading for him not to pursue the matter.

"O.K.," he said. "Let's go to my room." She nodded, and smiled. "So will I ever see your room?"

Alucard shrugged. "Maybe," she said. "When the time is right, I might show you."

"Are you hiding another boyfriend in there?"

It was meant to be a joke, but she pursed her lips momentarily and looked up at him. His whole body tingled as she squeezed his hand.

"No," she said, as casual as can be, "of course not."

He was very grateful that she walked in front of him as they stashed her weapon away and headed to his room, because he was certain his face was the color of a ripe tomato. Once there, he quickly excused himself to wash his face in the bathroom, splashing cold water on it in an attempt to cool it down. Alucard was sitting on his bed when he came out, the copy of _Dracula_ in her hand.

"Are you still reading this?"

Walter laid down on the bed. His muscles were sore and aching. "Yea. I'm barely halfway through. You were right, it's a difficult book."

"It's a wordy book. All that useless flowery language. They make everything sound so romantic."

"It's how they did things back then."

Alucard scoffed. "No, it's not," she said, a strange edge in her voice. "People who write about times before theirs always try to make things out to be lovelier than they really were. They characterize people as been perfect, beautiful, reasonable, and intelligent. The truth is people haven't changed. They just come in different packaging. To hide their own inadequacies they try to portray their history as romantic and good, as if their flaws never existed. _Dracula_ was a tale of blood, imprisonment, and betrayal."

This side of her was new to Walter, who struggled to keep up with what she was saying. "You mean imprisonment as a symbolism to vampirism?" he asked hesitantly. "I guess I can see that. What betrayal are you talking about?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Instead of answering, she set the book aside and climbed onto bed with him.

"Don't read too much into that stupid book," she said, maneuvering herself on top of him. "In fact, don't read it at all."

"If it were up to me, I couldn't be reading any of these boring books," he replied as she played with his tie. "But Arthur said I have to read that one. I don't know why. It's just another vampire story."

"Yea, that's right." Alucard was straddling him now, fumbling with his clothing. Looking down, he saw that she was unbuttoning his vest. "It's just a stupid vampire story."

"What are you doing?"

She met his eyes. Smirking, she slowly undid the knot on his tie. "Do you want me to stop?"

He wasn't sure how to answer. His mind felt hot and heavy. Alucard's aggressiveness has usually made him a bit uneasy, but it was never… this close. The energy radiating from her was unbearable. He didn't know whether it was hormones, pheromones, or what, but his senses were picking up every bit of it. She slid the tie off from around his neck. It made a soft rustling sound against his collar.

Were thirteen-year-old girls supposed to act like this? Walter had no idea.

Batting her amorous eyes, Alucard resumed unbuttoning his vest. Come to think of it, he had no idea what she planned to do either.

"What are you doing?" he asked again.

"Nothing," she said, unbuttoning his shirt. "Absolutely nothing."

There was an invisible fog in the room. He could feel its weight and haziness. He raised his own hands, maybe to stop her, he didn't know, but instead found himself removing her suit jacket. Smiling deviously, she let him, dropping the jacket carelessly to the floor. Then she leaned down, towards his open shirt, his bare chest. He felt her run her tongue over his skin.

Tremors ran down his spine. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close as she tasted his chest, neck, and lips. Her gloved hands ran all over his body, exploring, feeling, searching. He could feel her body against his, their skin separated only by a layer of clothing. It didn't disappoint him at all that she seemed to be almost completely flat. Just the sensation of touching her was… was…

Her teeth scraped against his neck. He twitched, and she pulled back, an embarrassed smile on her lips.

"Almost forgot," he heard her mutter, but didn't think to ask what she had forgotten. The next thing he knew she had gotten off the bed and was reaching for her jacket.

He half-sat up. "Where are you going?"

"It's getting late," she said. "I should go and let you rest." A pause. "Arthur can't know, O.K.?"

For a moment his mind didn't register. "Know about what?"

"About us. You and me." There was a sense of desperation in her voice. "Arthur can't know. It's very important."

"Alright. But what can he do?"

"He'll lock me up." She shrugged the jacket on and gave him a wink. "Good night."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

There were more ghouls this time, lumbering about awkwardly. From the looks of it, there was likely only one vampire in the place, holed up at the top. Walter spun his wires and took out the frontline.

It was an abandoned warehouse, one of the many on the edge of the industrial district. Abandoned buildings seem to be a favorite of vampires. This particular one was five stories and without power, though there was water, as could be seen from several leaking pipes on the first floor. The air smelled like meat and mildew. Wrinkling his nose, Walter pressed on. The troops were outside, keeping any stragglers from escaping. There was a flashlight on his belt but he didn't use it. All he had to do was follow Alucard.

She was particular lackluster today, which wasn't unusual whenever they sought a target that seemed too easy. Walter had learned by now that the girl apparently had no interest in ghouls whatsoever. She could take them out with her eyes closed, and often saw it as nothing more than wasting bullets. Once she even leaned against the wall and smoked a cigarette while he did the work. He didn't mind. It was good practice.

A few more figures stumbled into view, three men and one woman, their skin gray as ash. Alucard yawned and walked right past them. Two of the creatures looked at her in confusion, then turned back to Walter, who proceeded to slice them into pieces before trotting to catch up.

The stairwell connecting the third and fourth floor was a bit rickety, but after Alucard pronounced it solid enough, they continued their way up.

"What do you think of vampires?"

Startled, Walter looked up, but Alucard was little more than a shadow in the darkness. He couldn't see her face. "Why do you ask that?"

"Call it curiosity. Not many people get to have the chance to be around real vampires. It's something of a privilege."

"That's one way to put it, I guess." Walter shrugged. "The same way it may be a privilege to be exposed to rare poisons and taste fried beetles."

There was a moment of silence. "Do you really think that?"

"I'm not sure." They rounded a corner and continued up. "All that stuff Arthur has me reading is really very interesting. All these things about how vampires are superior to humans, how they're faster, stronger, and more intelligent in a lot of ways. It almost makes you wonder why we have to kill them off."

"Almost?"

"Besides the obvious, of course. They drink human blood and kill without mercy and create ghouls and such. But they're kind of fascinating."

Two ghouls greeted them on the fourth floor. Alucard shot them through the chest before they had a chance to approach. "There are lots of things about them that are fascinating. Humans just don't understand them."

"Like what?"

"Like their deep connection to wild animals, their sensitivity to the moon, their passion, and the sexuality of their vampirism."

"You sound like _you_ know all of that."

She glanced at him briefly. For a moment Walter could've sworn her eyes were red, glowing orbs in the darkness. Then she turned away, and he was sure it had been his imagination.

"I just have more experience," she said, stopping at the bottom of the last flight of stairs. "I've seen a lot of things."

"Why do you kill them?"

"Because of all the things you said before."

"That's not what I mean. I meant why do _you_ kill them? I'd find it hard to kill something I knew so much of. You almost seem like you have some sort of attachment to them, after all those things you've learned."

"Because it's my job," she answered simply, and turned go head up. He grabbed her arm.

"What's your story, Alucard?" he asked. "How did you come to be here anyway?"

Even without light, he could almost see the strangely sad smile on her face. "Not now," she said softly. "We have to finish this first."

He let her go. She headed upward.

"Vampires are wretched creatures," he heard her say from above. "They drown in their own power and immortality. In the end, that is their downfall."

"But they were all humans once."

"True. And theoretically, all humans have the capacity to become vampiric."

"Then we're really not so different."

She stopped again. "You really mean that." It was a statement, not a question.

He shrugged. "It's the truth."

oOo

"When you said Arthur will lock you up if he found out about us... hanging out, is that really true?"

Alucard nodded and looked out the window. They had just returned from the mission. She waited patiently as Walter cleaned himself up in the washroom. The moon was full again and the snow had stopped. Spring was on its way.

"Why would he lock you up? It doesn't seem reasonable."

"I follow different rules than you do," Alucard replied as Walter came out of the washroom and joined her at the window. He wore pajama pants and had draped a towel across his neck, hanging down his bare torso. Over the past few months he had filled out quite a bit. He was more muscular and his body looked a little less like a boy's and a little more like a man's. Food and exercise had done him good.

"And what rules are those?"

She kissed him. Smiling, he waited for her to finish.

"Well?"

Disappointed that she wasn't able to take his mind off the subject, Alucard backed away and faced the window again, a pensive look on her face.

He brushed a strand of black hair out of her face. "You can't keep dodging my questions," he said. "You don't think it's strange that we're together like this and I don't know anything about you?"

"There's nothing you _need_ to know," said Alucard. She left the window and sat down on his bed. He did the same.

"But I want to know. What could possibly happen from me knowing a little more about you?"

"A lot." She faced him, her eyes sparkling darkly. "My story is not a pretty one, Walter. It's best to be left alone."

He debated this. But in the end, curiosity won out. "If you just tell me one thing, I promise I won't ask anything else."

She seemed to consider the offer. "O.K.," she said. "One thing."

"Who are you really? Beyond the girl I know?"

For a moment he was certain she'd refuse to answer, but she stood and took his hand. "Just this one question," she reaffirmed. "Just this one and no more, right?"

He nodded. "Yes, just this one."

"No other questions after that, if I answer this one."

"Yes."

"Promise."

"I promise."

Alucard smiled. Walter thought he caught a hint of sadness in it, but it quickly vanished. "Come on," she said. "I'll show you my room."

oOo

He had no idea the mansion had so many levels.

Though by now he knew the upper levels fairly well, the lower ones were a mystery to him. Sure he knew they existed, but there had been no need to go down there. Arthur usually told him that the dungeons have been abandoned of use for some time and was mostly a storage area, thus did not need his attention. He had no reason to doubt this. After all, why trouble himself with a moldy basement filled with dusty boxes?

But the moment they descended the stairs, he knew something was off. To start with, the place was far from moldy. In fact, it was clean and sterilized like a hospital. The walls and floors were made of thick stone, cracked here and there from age but still holding strong. The underground was vast and filled with corridors like a maze.

Lining each side of the hall were thick steel doors with heavy padlocks. Some of them had window openings and he saw that several were indeed filled with crates and boxes. But a few had dark silhouettes of strange instruments inside, and even more of them made him think of prison cells.

Does the Hellsing house have its own prison? They had their own small army, so it wouldn't totally surprise him. Still, it was very strange that the youngest servant of the house, a girl no less, would sleep in a room down here, amongst these eerie cells.

Speaking of whom, Alucard hadn't said a word since they entered the dungeons. She led him through the dark halls that a few months ago would have been very scary to him. Nowadays he was quite used to them, knowing for sure that at least no ghouls haunted _these_ halls. The air down here was thick and stuffy. There were lights on the ceiling but only about a fourth of them worked. The rest were either off or flickering like wandering spirits.

Ahead of him, Alucard had stopped front of a door that looked much too heavy for her. Walter watched in amazement as she pushed open the steel door effortlessly and motioned for him to join her inside.

At first he could see nothing. She hadn't been lying when she said there were no windows and no light. The entire room was pitch-black. As Alucard disappeared into the darkness, Walter took a hesitant step inside and immediately felt like he had been swallowed by some giant beast. He raised his hands inches before his face and couldn't even make out his own fingers.

"Alucard?" he called into the darkness. Soft rustling sounds indicated she was moving about.

"Don't move," he heard her say.

A few seconds later a soft yellow light lit the room. Alucard had found a candle and lit it with her lighter. Carrying it in her hand, she approached him, the light illuminating her face made her appeal even paler than usual, almost eerily so.

Like the rest of the dungeons, the room was built entirely of stone, sealed in shut. The air was stale and dry. Almost like…

_A tomb._

Walter shuddered as Alucard took his hand once more and led him further inside. It was furnished, but very simply so. There was a table, a chair, and a few bookshelves, all of which looked like they were at least five decades old. But those were uninteresting compared to the large object lying against the wall.

As Alucard guided the candlelight to his right, Walter felt his entire body tense up at the sight of a large black coffin.

"Oh my God…"

She was smirking. "Why so shocked?" she asked. "It can hardly be frightening to the Angel of Death, now can it?"

Apprehensively, he edged towards it and touched it with his fingertips. Its surface was cold and smooth.

"Is it real?"

"What do you think?"

He swallowed. "What's it doing down here?"

There was a soft clutter as Alucard set the candle down on the table and came up behind him. He felt her wrap her arms around his shoulders. Her head was pressed against his back.

"Do you know what a coffin means to a vampire, Walter?"

"I…"

"It's a vampire's last dominion. The source of their only comfort in the world. Without a good coffin, a vampire is wretched, pathetic, and weak."

The coffin laid unmoving as Walter scanned it nervous eyes. There were writings in gold letters on the surface.

"What does it say?"

"'The Bird of Hermes is my name'," Alucard replied quietly, holding him close. "'Eating my wings to make me tame.'"

"What does that mean?"

"It doesn't matter." He felt her holding him tighter. "You promised, right? Just the one question. If I tell you where I'm from, you won't ask anymore, and nothing will change, right?"

Walter could find no words at the moment. Something was very wrong about this. But he nodded.

She released him and went to the coffin. He watched her sit down on its lid, her head dipped long so that her bangs hid her face. She seemed sad, but there was a hardness in her voice he hadn't heard before.

"This is where I am from," she said. "This coffin. Here I am born, and here I will one day die. I am what I hunt."

When she looked up at him, he knew that what he saw earlier had not been his imagination. The round black eyes he had grown so accustomed to glowed red, like spots of fresh blood. As he watched, she tilted her head to the side and grinned widely, showing off not just a pair, but a mouthful of razor-sharp fangs.

He took a step back, managed to tangle his feet into one another, felt himself fall. In a second Alucard was at his side, holding him up, and for the first time ever he noticed how abnormally her strength and agility was. Instinctively, he flinched away from her touch and tried to ignore the hurt look in her red eyes.

"You said nothing will change," she said, barely above a whisper. "You said humans and vampires are not so different."

He rubbed his temples and moved away from her again. The back of his legs hit the nearest chair. He sat down on it heavily and tried to process it all.

"I just…" he couldn't find the right words. "How? Why?"

She didn't approach him this time. "You promised no more questions," she said, her voice so small and wounded. "I just told you my secret."

"Arthur…"

"Doesn't allow me to associate with humans past a certain point. He thinks it's dangerous. It's kind of complicated, but I have to obey him."

"I can't…" Walter's wasn't sure what he wanted to do. The room suddenly felt very cold. "There's just so many questions…"

"No!" she cried, startling him. "You don't need to know those things. Just like it was better that you didn't know this. But you know now, and you see that I'm one of those _things_ that you hunt!"

He went to her.

This time she was the one surprised as he wrapped his arms around her and held her as tight as he could. She was still saying something, but it was muffled in his clothes.

"It's O.K.," he told her gently. She stopped talking. "I don't care."

She seemed stunned. "You don't?"

"Well," he said, smiling. "I'll get used to it."

She smiled, too. Somehow, he noticed, the red eyes really complimented her. "I'm different from them, you know," she said with a hint of pride.

"Really?"

"Yea." She kissed him. "You'll see."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I thought I'd share with fellow Dawn fans something funny. I posted a picture of Young Walter and Girlycard on my blog and a friend of mine goaded me into a lengthy argument, convinced that Girlycard was, well, a girl. I kept telling her no, it's a boy, and she said "well the only way to prove it is to find a picture of HER naked."

So, if anyone has a picture of Girlycard naked…

Chapter 10

He spent the night with her that night, laying side by side in her coffin. At first he was hesitant, but once his back hit the coffin's silky lining, his apprehensiveness evaporated. The coffin was large and a bit more spacious than he'd expected. It smelled of dried flowers, dirt, and age.

"Does it really rejuvenate you?" he had asked her, running his hand up and down the smooth silk.

"It does," she replied. "The energies flowing through it cannot be felt by humans."

"It's just so strange…"

"What's so strange about it? We are dead, after all." She chuckled as he winced at the word. "Well, that's the wrong way to put it. Vampires are _un_dead. Death to us has been a second birth, a passing into a different realm."

"But you're still here."

"That's the problem. The physical layer of this realm overlaps with the humans' in more ways than one."

"Seems as nature would have it, there's no room for both." A thought occurred to him. "I've never seen you eat anything," he said. "I read that vampires can't eat. So… whose blood have you been drinking?"

She snuggled against him, sliding her fingers across his chest. "I told you I'm different, didn't I?"

"Yea."

"I can eat whatever I want. That is one way that I am different. My body does not reject food like most vampires'. But I don't eat, because blood tastes best anyway."

"The blood…"

"Medical blood." She made a disgusted face that Walter couldn't help but laugh at. "Bland, tasteless stuff."

"Arthur won't allow anything fresh?"

"He think if let loose, I'd prey on the soldiers and maids." Alucard scoffed.

"Would you?"

Mischief shone in her red eyes. "Of course not," she said. "I'd stick to butlers."

"One last question."

"Shoot."

He pulled back his sleeve. "Did you take this watch off a dead body?"

"Does it still count if the hand didn't have a body attached to it?"

Sleep overtook his senses soon after that and he was barely aware of her rising in the middle of the night and wandering off, in search of some trouble to weasel herself into. When the morning came she was back again, sleeping silently as he rose. Her chest did not rise and fall like a normal person's. In fact, she slept without any movement whatsoever. But instead of looking like a corpse with her pale cheeks and pink lips, she was a sleeping beauty, a vision to behold, at least to his eyes.

He watched her for several minutes before proceeding with his day.

oOo

Arthur had had another meeting in the library.

There were teacups scattered all over, books taken from the shelves, flipped through, and cast carelessly aside. The tennis shoe was back, though he had no interest in asking who it belonged to or what its purpose was. There liquor bottles, too, all of which were inconspicuously around Arthur's favorite chair.

The piles of books seemed endless as he gathered up each one and put them back up on the shelves. One of them had a sticky brown stain on the cover that that made him grimace. He wiped it off with a rag and began to shelf it with the others when its title caught his eye.

It was a hard, leather-bound book. At first he hadn't noticed, but upon closer inspection he saw that its pages were of the utmost quality, its binding strong and must more intricate than any other book on the shelf. The stain had done next to no damage to its well-protected cover.

It was a copy of _Dracula_, and from the looks of it, a customized copy, completely unlike the paperback he had been reading.

Curiously, he flipped through it. It didn't seem any different from the one in his room, at least the parts he'd read so far. But why did was there so many copies of _Dracula_?

"Interesting book, isn't it?"

He looked up. Arthur had just entered, yawning and stretching, his hair in disarray from bed. Walter quickly moved to tuck the book away, but Arthur took it out of his hand before he could.

"This is one of the first copies of the original, you know."

"The original _Dracula_?"

"The very same." Arthur flipped the book's pages nonchalantly. "There are at least twenty copies in this house, and several more out of it"

_Twenty_. "Why so many, sir?"

"It's an important book. They're stored in various mediums and locations, so that no matter what happens, there will at least be one copy safe. The original, of course, is in a safer place still." He winked and handed the book back to Walter. It suddenly felt very heavy. "When you've been here long enough, I may even show you where it is."

"This house has the original _Dracula_?" Walter asked in surprise. "Why is it here? Should it be in the national library or something?"

Arthur scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's a long story," he said. "But, as I said before, if there's anything you want to ask, you can ask after you finish reading it."

There was more that he was not saying, but Walter decided to let it go. He moved to put the book away once more.

"Actually," Arthur said, "why don't you hold on to that one? Read that one instead."

"Is there a difference, sir?"

"Not a huge one. Don't trouble yourself too much over it," replied Arthur, and left him to his work.

He did as he was told, though for the rest of the day he couldn't help but wonder about the book and what its importance was. After the day was through, he hurried back to his room and dug out his own copy.

Flipping to several random pages, he compared the two. Arthur was right; there was no major difference between them. In fact, there were no differences at all. The paperback was a word-for-word copy of the original. So what was the big deal?

He looked at the title page. Bram Stoker. Same author.

Shaking his head, Walter closed both books. Arthur was strange. He wouldn't put it past the man just having all those copies of the book as a collector's hobby. Evening was near. He tucked the book into his bottom drawer, remembering Alucard's dislike of it, though he felt as if he understood her a bit more now. Of course she wouldn't like a book that portrayed the strongest vampire in history as been defeated by humans, being a vampire herself.

And, just as he predicted, she barged into his room the moment the sun disappeared beneath the horizon and climbed onto his bed. Those red eyes were going to take a little getting used to.

She kissed him. Her lips were chillier than usual.

"Why are you so cold?" he asked her.

"This is my natural body temperature," she informed him, sitting on his lap. "I adjusted it before so you didn't find it too strange."

"Vampires can do that?"

"_I_ can. Just like I could change the color of my eyes."

He pulled her close. A chilly air radiated from her skin. He shuddered a bit, though it was somewhat refreshing. "Why are you so different?"

She laid a finger over his lips. "Not important, remember?"

"So the troops, everyone in the manor, they all know what you are?"

"Just the troops, since we work together. There's no need for anyone else to know. You can imagine the uproar it would cause if it came out that the Hellsing family is using a vampire to hunt its own kind."

Walter nodded. This was true, though he wondered briefly how Arthur planned to explain this to the next successor of the family business.

Alucard sat up. "Let's go," she said.

He did the same. "Where's the disturbance tonight?"

"We don't know yet," Alucard said, grinning. "We're going to find it. Tonight, we hunt for real."

The idea, coupled with her fanged grin, both excited and disturbed him. "How do we do that? And won't Arthur be upset? I thought you had rules."

"I'm allowed to hunt," she replied. "As long as there are no other missions and I don't make a spectacle of myself."

"I'm not so sure about that second one."

She hit him on the shoulder. It hurt. A lot. He rubbed it, certain there would be a bruise later. "I told you I'd show you what I can really do," Alucard said, standing. "Do you want to see it or not?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You asked the question. Now you have to follow through." There was that tone again. She was challenging him once more. "Will you?"

"Alright," he said after a moment.

Instead of going to the front of the mansion, this time they went to the back, rounding several corners and emerging near the training fields. Alucard looked around, as if searching for something, then grabbed both his hands.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

"What are we doing?"

The next thing he remembered was having the wind knocked out of him as they flew at least a hundred feet into the air. Before he could even start to feel scared, his feet touched the roof and there was nothing but air around him. Alucard let go of his hands and he fell, his legs weak as spaghetti as they crumbled beneath him. He landed heavily on his bottom.

The moon was bright and the sky was clear. Alucard stood beneath it all like a fearless ruler. Out in the distance city lights and vast fields could be seen, as well as acres upon acres of woods.

Leaving him to compose himself, she craned her neck upward slightly and sniffed the air. He watched her in fascination, his head reeling.

"Can you smell it, Walter?" she said dreamily. "The scent of massacre."

oOo

They traveled mostly by rooftop.

It was new and exhilarating, and would have been much more enjoyable if Walter wasn't constantly plagued by the feeling that he was about to barf up a lung every time they went airborne. Alucard took him from rooftop to rooftop, bouncing like a rubber ball and each time they dove toward a new surface he was certain they were going to crash, moving at such speed. But it never happened. Apparently, she's done this more than once.

Every now and then he found his feet off the ground a little too long and the Earth seemed like it was turning by itself below him. Could she fly? He wasn't sure. According to his studies, contrary to the old wives' tales, most vampires do not harbor the ability to fly, change shape, or heal their wounds, especially in their early years as an undead. Those skills are acquired over time, and the majority of them are killed by humans before those skills developed. Even then, only vampires classified as Class A (or Level One) are able to wield them efficiently. He thought of the vampires he had come across so far. None of them had exhibited any outstanding ability beyond speed, strength, and, of course, blood drawing. The first one he had seen, the one Alucard proclaimed to be a Level Two, had been very fast and agile enough to dodge bullets. Thinking back on it, he wasn't sure what would have happened if the vampire hadn't made the mistake of attacking him head-on.

But then there was Alucard, this girl who couldn't be more than his age, showing stunning skill, ones he had never imagined. As they made another pit stop on top of a restaurant, he tried to make some comparisons in his head.

She could change her eye color, body temperature, and could move faster than any vampire he'd ever seen. He was certain her marksmanship had roots in her vampiricm also.

"There."

He shook himself and went to Alucard, who was standing on the edge of the building, looking West.

"I can smell them," she told him, the same way someone might say "I smell dinner".

At first he neither saw nor smelled anything, but a second passed and he could. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it or his senses have indeed learned to pick up certain scents, but here it was. The metallic scent of blood, wafting in the wind. Then he spotted the figures, four of them in the distance, in an empty lot behind a row of houses.

"Are you sure?" he asked. The moon was bright, but not enough for him to make out what they figures were doing.

"Feeding." Was there a hint of envy in her voice?

"You can see them?"

She sneered, her fangs glistening. "Very well. If I had my gun, I can take them out from here."

It was then that he noticed she wasn't armed. "We have to go back!"

"What for?"

"To get your gun." He grabbed her arm.

She pulled him in and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she gave him a kiss so fierce as to leave him gasping for breath. "Do you want to see how a true vampire battles, Walter?" she asked softly. "Once you do, there is no turning back."

He draped his arms around her waist. "You say that as if it's the gates of Hell."

"We are damned creatures. Seeing our true nature could shatter the mind of a normal man."

"I'm thirteen," he said with a grin. "I'm not a man yet."

"You're sure about this?"

He kissed her forehead. "I am. I already told you, it doesn't matter what you are."

She smiled, and let go. Seems it was about to begin. Walter reached for his wires.

"You're sitting this one out."

He looked up. "I am?"

"I'll take care of it. Your job is to watch, and not interfere until all targets are silenced."

"What if something goes wrong?"

"It won't. You'll have to trust me on this one." Alucard gazed into the distance again. "Looks like they're about done."

"What are they feeding on?" Walter asked, unable to bring himself to say "who".

"A baby."

He nearly choked. "What?"

"It's a baby," replied Alucard, completely unfazed. "I'd say about a year and half. Bet they dragged it out of one of those houses."

"The parents…! Didn't they notice!"

"If they got the baby, the parents are probably long dead. We may have to check later, lest they become ghouls. Not all vampires make a spectacle of themselves. Some simply rob houses and feed off the victims, doing it as quietly as possible to avoid attracting attention. About one out of every five murder case in the paper can be attributed to low-level vampires."

This was a little more than he wanted to know.

"Let's go."

The wind whistled in his ear as they landed by the empty lot, quietly enough so that none of the vampires took notice. He had been wrong. There were five of them crouched around a small corpse, ashen faces stained with blood.

"Remember what I said. Don't come out until I'm the only one standing."

"Alright." Though still not wanting to leave Alucard alone, Walter was secretly glad that he didn't have to see the mutilated infant.

She pecked him on the cheek before entering the lot. The five vampires sensed her immediately and stood. Perhaps all vampires shared some sort of connection unknown to humans. Walter watched from the shadows nervously.

As if a silent challenge had been issued, they surrounded her from all sides, moving like a pack of wolves. They recognized her as their kind, he saw, and were planning to defend their territory, like animals. But compared to her, they were so low in grade that they were barely sentient. Nonetheless, they had sensed that she was abnormal, and perhaps dangerous.

Smirking, she turned around slowly, and met Walter's eyes. At the very same moment, one of the vampires made its move, charging forward.

Alucard sidestepped. And then, as if for show, held out one of her arms. Air caught in Walter's chest as the vampire's teeth sunk into her shoulder.

With a sickening tear, it wrenched her arm out of its socket, clamped triumphantly between its teeth.

The other vampires let out a hooting laugh as Walter fought to keep himself from charging forward. He had promised. Alucard had to know what she was doing. She had to…

A moment later, the laughter stopped.

There was silence as the girl stood her ground and did not fall, nor did her smirk change.

As if by magic (though he couldn't imagine what else it could be), she sprouted a new arm out of the torn socket. It was seamless. Even her clothing was repaired. The severed arm fell from the vampire's jaw and melted into a puddle of red goo.

"My turn," he heard her say.

Then she moved, dashing forward and driving her hand, held out before her like a spear, through the nearest vampire's chest. There was a chilling howl and the thing crumbled into dust. Alucard cast a glance at the remaining four.

They scattered, each running in a different direction. Alucard watched them go, unhurried.

From her back sprouted what Walter first took to be tentacles. But a moment later he saw, in sheer shock, that they were dogs. On the tip of each long black mass was the head of a black dog, large as a boulder with at least a hundred glowing red eyes up an down its massive face and neck.

He watched, unmoving, as the four vampires chased down, one by one, by Alucard's "pets". The rest needed no explanation.

Then she came to him, as clean and prim as ever, her hair glistening in the moonlight and her clothing white as the morning cloud.

She slipped her fingers between his and kissed him on the chin. She smelled like blood and wild roses.

"I'm not like them," she whispered in his ear. "I'm not a mutt, or a mongrel, or a street tramp, but a true vampire. It is what makes me the hunter and them the hunted. My blood is pure like no other. They cannot hold a candle to me."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

From that day on he fought better.

He wasn't sure why, but he was better. He was faster, braver, and stronger. The missions were becoming a routine, a part of himself, and his wires a new limb. The battlefield was a dance floor, where he and Alucard partnered up and stepped to the music of massacre. There was a name spoken with fear in the Median underground, and that name was the Angel of Death.

She truly was different from them. She was not human, nor what they hunted. She was much, much more. Her grace and power had no equal in the dark night, and her lips were sweeter than dew in the evening twilight. There were words, things that she refused to say, but having them made her all the more lovely, all the more mysterious.

_I am the Bird of Hermes,_ she once told him. He had no idea what it meant, but somehow it fit. She flew on invisible wings.

Spring passed and summer went. The cold weather was coming upon them once more. Walter had spent nearly a year in the mansion, as the butler of Hellsing. He was a bit taller now, his skin a bit rougher, and his eyes a lot wiser, though still retaining that curious mischief that had accompanied him from the orphanage. He knew the house inside out, held his own at cooking and cleaning, and even occasionally gave instructions to the staff. He was still pretty good at making tea, which was a bit of an annoyance to him personally. Somehow, it didn't suit his disposition. One day, he hoped, someone else will take over the task of making tea.

His studies continued as usual, so a bit more slack now that he also had to work vampire-hunting into his schedule. He had a working knowledge of European history, a basic understanding of natural sciences, and a rough but workable German vocabulary. Arthur had mentioned that perhaps he should also start French in the next year or two.

He was on the last pages of _Dracula_.

It was a rather interesting book overall, he had to say. Though he had heard the story of Dracula being told on and off in the orphanage, when sleep eluded the children, he never knew there were this many details, and this many characters involved. Dracula's trip to London on a ship… his force-feeding blood to Mina… the final chase led by Van Helsing… it was all so intricate.

And of course he wondered about one thing, and couldn't wait to finish to ask.

Arthur, as usual, was making a mess in the library. He was taking books off shelves when Walter walked in. From what it looked like, instead of scanning the stacks to look for a book, he took off each one that was not the one he wanted and tossed it wherever it landed until he found the one he needed.

"How can I help you, Walter?" he asked, not looking away from the shelves. There was a bottle of whiskey in his other hand. Walter wondered if the man was ever completely sober, or whether he'd be able to tell if he was.

"You said you'd answer my questions, sir, about _Dracula_."

"Finished, are you?" Dropping the book in his hand, Arthur left the shelves and settled in his favorite chair. He gestured for Walter to sit on the nearest sofa. "Then you must have discovered the difference. What do you make of it?"

Walter hesitated and wringed his hands. Truth was he hadn't finished completely. He was within a few pages of it though. Thinking quickly, he said, "it was surprising."

"Those pages were missing for a reason," Arthur declared, drinking from the bottle. "They were added later on to conceal the troublesome fact from the public eye. It was ordered by Van Helsing after the first version, which is only kept by this house, was written."

"So Dr. Van Helsing _is_ the predecessor of this family?" Walter asked incredulously. The thought had crossed his mind but it seemed ludicrous. "And the book, the whole thing, was based on real events?"

"That's exactly right. After the capture of Dracula, Van Helsing established the vampire hunting agency now known as Hellsing. It's been handed down through the generations, passed from father to son, and who knows," he spread his hands, "maybe one day there will be a woman at throne, too. Times are changing, you know?"

It was amazing.

"And as far as the story itself goes, it's not only _based_ on real events, it _is_ real. Every little bit of if took place, and each person was as real and you and I."

"Then Dracula was real!" Walter exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his seat. "How can that be? I always thought he was just another goblin in children's stories."

Arthur raised a brow. "Then the book did its job, didn't it? Especially those last pages."

So some pages were added later on that wasn't in the original version. Walter really wished he had finished the book now. "So those pages," he said carefully, "why add them? What's wrong with the original story?"

Leaning forward, Arthur rested one elbow on his knee. "Do you remember your lessons from a while back, Walter? One of which I gave you personally?"

There had only been three or four of those. Walter nodded.

"There was particular one regarding a certain type of vampire, the Nosferatu. What do you recall from that lesson?"

Walter thought hard. "The Nosferatu is above a Class A vampire," he said, recalling the lesson slowly. "It is said to have mastered all the known abilities of vampires, and even pushed the boundaries on many of them. It is almost an entirely new species of vampire and is immune to most things detrimental to normal vampires. There are no known ways to kill it. Currently there are none known ones in existence."

"That is false," said Arthur. "I merely thought it unfit to reveal it to you at the time, not until you finished the book. There is one and only one Nosferatu in existence. The Count, Dracula."

A shiver ran down his spine. "I don't follow, sir."

"You saw the missing pages in the original book. Dracula's death was added only at Dr. Van Helsing's request, to spread the story in such a way so that nothing could be traced back to the truth. The Hellsing Agency doesn't need that kind of publicity. We prefer to keep our weapon to ourselves."

"Weapon?"

"What better way to hunt vampires than with its own, and the most powerful of them all? There is no way to kill a Nosferatu, but there are a few ways to catch one. The heirlooms of this family include more than just a name and a house, Walter."

Cold sweat was creeping down his brow. "Are you saying, sir… that Dracula still lives?" he asked. "And that he is actually in this house?"

"Certainly," Arthur answered casually. "You yourself have been in his company since day one." He offered the bottle in his hand. "Drink?"

oOo

He didn't quite remember how he got to his room, but he did know there was a faint feeling of nausea as he walked. There was bitter bile in the back of his throat and he couldn't spit it out. His mind was heavy and felt like it couldn't resist the gravity, been pulled lower and lower until it fell through the ground.

Dracula.

He walked in, closed the door, and washed his face with steaming water, so hot it burned his skin but he didn't care. He felt dirty, like he could never be clean again.

When he finished, she was sitting on his bed. (Or was it he? Did it make a difference? Did he ever check?) She was smiling at him, sitting there with her black hair and fair skin, and those lips that touched his so many times. He wanted to gag.

"Evening, Walter," she chirped. "Guess what today is."

He didn't speak. He could only look at her fangs. The same ones that sunk into Lucy's neck.

"Walter?"

His mouth was filled with cotton. Alucard stood and went to him, standing very closely, her body pressed against his. Her chest was touching his, the same one from which Mina was forced to drink.

Alucard.

How did he not see it before? A name spelled either way was still the same name. Didn't she say this before? "This name is _my_ name"?

"What's the matter?" She raised a hand to touch his forehead.

"Don't touch me!" He exclaimed, and suddenly realized that he had pushed her as hard as he could, shoving her backwards onto the bed. There was surprise in her red eyes, which gazed up at him, glossed over in understanding, and turned away.

"Did he tell you?"

Her voice was so small and hurt that for a moment all Walter wanted to do was hold her. But Arthur's words came back to him and he kept himself at bay.

_No, not this time_.

"What's wrong with you?" he heard himself ask in a shaky voice. "How could you… What…" he buried his face in his hands, pulled at his hair. There was no way to describe the feeling of innocence torn in two.

"Walter, please…" she reached for his arm. He flinched away.

"How could you lie about something like this? Lie about what you are?"

"I never lied to you," she said. "Not once. I told you the truth on everything question I chose to answer. I even told you what I am. I didn't lie about that either. You said it's alright, that it didn't make a difference."

He was trembling, and he hated it. "You're Dracula," he said, softer than he had intended.

"It's just a name."

"You're a man!" he blurted out. "And you're… you're… My God, how old are you?"

She sighed. "Five hundred and thirteen this year."

"Five hundred and…"

"Do you want to hear my answers?" He met her eyes, they were deep and sad. "I'll answer your questions, all of them. Please… don't think ill of me."

He rubbed his temples. "I have to think," he said softly. "Please leave."

For a moment she didn't move. She reached out to touch him again, but stopped herself midair and withdrew. "O.K.," she said. "If you want… you know where to find me."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here it is, the final chapter and the epilogue. The epilogue wasn't originally there, but I added it because I just can't stay away from a touch of AxI; try not to think of Alucard as pedophiliac, because I know it kind of sounds like it at the end. Also, I don't know the exact details of Dracula's history, so, well, don't be picky on the technicalities.

I think I'm starting to like this couple more than AxI, or at least as much as. They're just so darn cute!

Enjoy & Review!

Chapter 12

And he did find her.

He stayed in his room for a long time, laying on his bed, eyes trailed on the ceiling. The room felt very empty without her there, overturning his things and chatting away in his ear. It was too quiet, too big, having had her to fill it up from that very first day.

The drapes were open and the moon was full in the cloudless sky. She always loved the moon, loved it more than God. And why not? She was a God-forsaken creature. More than that, she was the King of all God-forsaken creatures, a No-Life King.

Perhaps it was the moon that finally convinced him, but Walter dragged himself out of bed and wandered out into the gardens. She was there, standing alone gazing up at the moon. She offered him a cigarette when he approached.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, her eyes not leaving the sky. There was age in her voice.

"You story, I guess."

"You read my story."

"Is that all of it?"

She shook her head. "No. I guess not."

"Why don't you tell me? I want to hear _your_ story."

"I guess it makes no difference now." She sighed. "I've had a lot of names over time. It started out as Vlad Tepes, in the 1400s. Then Vlad Dracula, Son of the Dragon. I was the king of Wallachia for a time, raging holy wars in the name of a God who never answered my prayers. In the end I gave up."

"Gave up on life?"

"Life, God, what's the difference? I found no relief in either and I sold my soul to become what I thought would set me free, sever my bound with the nameless, faceless divine who didn't give a damn about me. I wanted freedom, but instead what I found was more captivity.

"I was trapped in immortality, wandering the Earth endlessly, drinking the blood of man, devouring their souls to make myself more powerful. I have hundreds upon thousands of them inside me. I can hear them every second of every hour of every day, but over time it became easier to shut them out. I carry their joy and sorrow, their yearning and desires. It's tiresome really.

"Then, some decades ago, I met my match. Not in the form of Van Helsing, but in the form of a woman named Mina Harker. Who would have thought that heartless beast such as myself would be done in by love for a human? That love caused a moment of weakness in which I let my guard down. At that time my name was Count Dracula."

She raised a gloved hand for Walter to see. As he watched, a red light seeped from its back, forming an intricate circular pattern with a star in its center, surrounded by symbols and markings.

"This is my seal," she told him. "Van Helsing placed this on me after realizing that I could not be killed by conventional means. I hated that man, still do. The things he and his people did to me were beyond description. If I was not a full Nosferatu upon my capture, I am now. The powers you saw in me were not all mine. They did it to make me the perfect servant to him, and his descendents. Should Arthur ever reproduce, or perhaps leave the estate to you, which is not impossible, I would remain the servant."

She chuckled sadly. "Did you like my coffin? I traveled to England in that thing. Biggest mistake of all time, you could say."

Walter stood in silence. "Can you not break the seal?" he asked at last. "I would think that by now you'd have found some way."

"Not a day passed did I not try. But I always failed. That is, until a while ago, when I stopped trying."

"Why did you stop trying?"

Red eyes turned to him. "You arrived."

He hid his blush in the shadows.

"Form means very little," she said to him. "I take on whatever form I feel that pleases those around me. My identity changes as needed, because nothing about me is permanent anymore safe for my unending existence between life and limbo."

She leaned in to kiss him. He turned away at the last minute, and tried not to see the disappointment in her eyes as she pecked his cheek.

"I can't," he said. "Not anymore."

She backed away. "Alright."

"But," he went on, "nothing else has changed. I can't give up my partner, just like that."

She smiled, just a little. "That's alright. I suppose this is the proper day."

"Why's that?"

"Because you walked in those doors" –she pointed at the main gates—"one year ago. Today."

He raised the cigarette she gave him to his lips. "Shall we?"

That familiar smirk returned to her face. "Certainly," she replied. "Come on, let's go light up in the boss's office."

END

Epilogue

Walter closed the door to Integra's bedroom, having just seen the young master to bed. He lingered in the hall a bit, pacing slowly and occasionally tossing a glance at his old comrade, standing there, dressed in the color of blood from head to toe. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny, butler?" asked the vampire with a hint of amusement.

"It's going to take a few years, I think."

"What is?"

"Me getting used to you in that getup. You understand, of course, that part of me will always see you as when we first met."

Alucard grinned. It was the same toothy grin from five decades ago, be it on the face of a young girl or a grown man. That slyness in his voice was still there, and his eyes carried mischief just like before.

"They were good times," said the vampire. He looked at the door Walter had just closed. "Things sure have changed. Arthur with a child… I can't even imagine."

"Integra Wingates Hellsing. The new family head."

"Who would've thought that obnoxious drunkard could father such a beautiful daughter?"

There was a look in those red eyes, one that Walter was more familiar with than he'd have liked. "No, Alucard," he said firmly. "She's too young."

"Like you were?"

"Like I was. And besides, this isn't the same." Slowly, Walter strolled down the hall to his own quarters, the same room he'd slept in since he arrived. He'd grown quite fond of it. Alucard followed. "She is your master, not your toy."

"You were never a toy."

Their eyes didn't meet. "I know." Walter adjusted his glasses. "So should I inquire as to why you chose this form? You once said you take on whatever form would please those around you most. I would think she'd prefer a playmate more similar to herself."

"Perhaps." Alucard nodded. "But that isn't what she _needs_. With the weight of the world on her shoulders, she needs someone she feels can protect her, keep her safe, and make her feel strong."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Time hasn't killed your curiosity, I see."

"You could leave, you know," Walter said thoughtfully. "Arthur is gone and the bond between you and she are not too strong yet. You could break that seal and be free. You have a better chance right now. I'm sure you know that."

"I do," Alucard said with a shrug. "But… I don't think I will."

It was the answer he'd anticipated. Walter smiled. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd submit yourself willing to anything."

"You were right, Walter," said Alucard, gazing out the hall window. The moon was new, thin and timid like a young woman's smile. "She's too young. But soon, she will grow up."


End file.
